The Colour of Ever After
by middaysky0613
Summary: Harry Potter's brother, William Potter, was thought to be the Chosen one the night Voldemort fell. Sent to an orphanage, Harry Potter grew up without knowing his previous family, one still alive and well in England. What happens when the mistake is discovered, and his family wants him back? And what does Draco, the broodingly sexy Veela want with him?
1. Chapter 1

Ok, quick disclaimer. READ THIS DISCLAIMER. This fanfiction is not originally mine. The first five or so chapters are by the fanfic author coveted-one. They are amazing, so go check them out. This story was an abandoned Drarry fanfic, and I decided to finish it on a few conditions: I take the requested story-arch into account, I keep the characters, I follow the proper formatting, and I give it at least fifteen chapters. Works for me! Anyway, enjoy and remember, I own no characters!

The year was 1979. The month, November. The war with Voldemort was still only in its beginning stages, yet the fear that swept the wizarding world was real, and pandemic. Many old families had already been wiped out, with the Potters, Longbottoms, and a few others left barely standing. Those, like the Malfoys and Parkinsons, having already pledged their allegiance to the dark side since the beginning of the wizarding world, were counted as lost. People's disappearance each day was a common occurrence heralded in The Daily Prophet, and whether their disappearance was due to elimination due to death by Lord Voldemort's servants, the Death Eaters, or due to them going into hiding or even joining the shadowy forces, was anyone's guess. The Order of the Phoenix, having just been started the previous year, barely had enough resources or manpower to make the difference in the world it hoped to. Yet, one man had reason to believe that this all might change. And this very hope, was the reason why he had apparated all the way to a lonely village in North Russia, and proceeded to make the long trek up the mystic mountain, housing the medium, Anastyna Mrins.

This man was Albus Dumbledore, the founder of The Order of the Phoenix, and winner of many accolades, such as defeating the dark lord Grindelwand when he rose to power years ago, and his brilliance in Transfiguration. His awards even included those in ten-pin bowling. Yet, these could not properly describe the reasons why he was the one hoped in the wizarding world to be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. For he was the only one with skills matching, or even surpassing those that his darker counterpart possessed. The world believed it, surely it had to be true.

Yet, this one man knew what the rest of the world did not.

Perhaps now he could indeed defeat Voldemort, yet, Dumbledore knew for certain in three years, perhaps even two, he would not. For his powers were on the decline, even now. And Voldemort was smart. He knew this. Hence, the wait. And the seemingly cowardly retreats whenever a mission led by Voldemort himself was met with one led by Dumbledore. For Voldemort was no fool. And Voldemort, even led by pride as he was, would never allow himself to face a man he knew he was not capable of overtaking now, not just yet. No, Albus was not the one who would save the world this time.

The world needed much newer blood to save them.

Yet, the one who could save them was not in the world, at least, yet. Albus had seen almost all the scions of notable families around the world. None of them possessed enough power or promise to overthrow the Dark Lord. Not now, not later, not even with intensive training from Albus himself. Albus had also visited the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. All unanimously pointed out the lack of signs in the skies from the last decade. No, the Chosen One had not entered the world yet, that Albus was sure of.

But, he derived hope from what an elderly centaur had promised to him, at the end of his visit.

 _Flashback_ -

Albus felt his heart pound within his chest, and he heaved an age-old sigh, for the first time in his visit showing how very tired he was. Of hoping, of looking for a sign that seemed not to appear. He prepared to leave the clearing where he in, with centaurs all around. They knew not what he was seeking, and neither could they provide answers, for the skies held nothing for him. The centaurs had nothing more for him. But, as he was rising to his feet, an elderly centaur, with a silvery grey mane approached him. The clearing of centaurs grew silent, viewing the elder with respect. The centaur eyed him, and with a flicker of his eyes, decided to address him.

'Wizard.' the centaur proclaimed. 'You come here seeking answers from the stars, and those who watch them. Perhaps you hold no true faith in them, as we do. Yet i tell you this, as is my duty. What you have hoped for, will come.'

The centaur paused for a moment, considering his next words. And Albus allowed himself to believe, for a fragment of a second, that things might be different.

'Pluto, the symbol for enormous power, which can release untold energy, has been in the skies recently. Pluto stands for awesome achievements to be gained, and the ability to change the world, with its powers in the right hands.' The centaur paused gravely. 'In normal cases, Pluto shines but only faintly in the lives of which it touches. Yet it is different now. This year, is the year that Pluto lines up with the Sun, the symbol of power, and nobility, even royalty. The last time this occured, the founder of your wizarding world was born.' With a slight stamping of his hooves, the centaur turned to leave. Yet, Albus caught his parting words to him.

'The child which you hope for, to save the world, will be conceived before the year sets.'

Albus Dumbledore kept the secret close to his heart, choosing not to reveal it even to his most trusted of all confidants. He would wait til the child was born, and his powers fully known, then would this secret be let out to the world. Should the secret be let out prematurely, it would possibly result in the elimination of the world's biggest hope by throngs of Death Eaters, before the powers of the child could be harnessed properly.

He, however, would do whatever he could to make the Dark Lord slightly less indestructible then what he was now. Starting from the Dark Lord's right-hand man, which was Lucius Malfoy and his family. And this, was the very reason Albus Dumbledore was trudging up a hill in mid-winter, in search of the one woman that could help him in his quest.

 **Lucius Malfoy**

Lucius Malfoy scowled slightly as he apparated into the storage room of the only pub in the Russian village. The stale odor of dusty boxes, and shelves of wine, permeated through the air. It was, quite possibly, the crampiest and most foul of all storerooms he'd ever been forced to apparate into. The scowl disappeared though, as his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, apparated next to him, stumbling a little as she tried to find her footing.

'Careful, Cissa.' He admonished, looping a hand around her waist. 'Wouldn't want our little dragon to get hurt would we?' with a smirk.

He stepped aside with a sparkle in his eyes as Narcissa swatted his shoulder. 'And what about me, honey? Don't you worry about my safety?'

His face became more serious. Moving to hold her tight, he whispered in her ear. 'All the time, honey. You're my world.' Narcissa smiled softly. 'I know that, Luce. I've always known that.'

As Lucius walked up the mountain, alternately bracing Narcissa against the winds, and looking out for potential threats, he contemplated the road that led him here again.

Everyone knew the Malfoy family. Their ancestors traced back all the way to when the very wizarding world was founded. Those in the know, however, knew the Malfoy family was not as loyal to the dark side as many believed. A family, where neither Dark nor Light meant anything to them. A family where Veela blood coursed through their very veins, their only true loyalty lay where their mate was. Should their mate have been in different side as the family, the whole family would have switched alleigances overnight. Family came first, no matter what. The Dark Lord knew that, and so did Dumbledore. Yet, should the family turn to the Light, after so many generations of being in the Dark, Lucius knew Voldemort would not dare to hold it against him. Veelas did not choose their mates, it was written in the stars. With the Dark Lord and those beofe him, the Malfoy family had formed an understanding of some sort. Voldemort knew should his son and heir have a Light mate, there would be nothing he could do to stop it.

And that, was the reason he was here on this deserted mountain. He was looking for an Anastyna Mrins, the one person who all Veelas placed their trust in unreservedly. This Anastyna, was one in a long line of clairvoyants who had accuratedly predicted the sides Veela mates would be on. She could indeed tell the specifics of a mate, yet her family had long held of the belief that too much knowledge would instead harm, instead of help. She herself, had been the one to pronounce to his father, when he had been brought to her a mere babe of six months, that Lucius' mate would come from the same side as he was on at that present. And his father had placed absolute trust in her words.

They did not prove false.

When Lucius received his inheritance, at midnight on his 17th birthday, he too received his mate. Narcissa Black, of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Blacks, in his own house of Slytherin. The Blacks and the Malfoys were delighted at the union of the two lines.

Lucius had sometimes wondered, had his mate not been of a pureblooded line, would his parents still have been as delighted? Now, however, with his own son soon to come into the world, Lucius knew that with certainty even had his little Draco had a mate that was a despised mudblood, he would have welcomed it, if only to see his little dragon reach such happiness as he had shared with Narcissa.

Lucius looked up, and saw the entrance to the cave looming up just ahead. They had arrived.

 _Three hours ago,_

 **Dumbledore**

Dumbledore finally made it to the entrance of the cave. Entering, he noticed the surroundings had not changed, since he had ventured into this particular cave more than half a century ago. The floor was damp, and the only light entered through the entrance of the cave. At first glance, the cave appeared no different from any other, yet, it was different indeed. He carefully walked around the perimeter, scrutinizing the mildew-ridden walls. Upon noticing a particular indentation in the rocks, he smiled wryly, and poking his wand into the knot, he muttered a soft incantation, The wall disappeared, revealing a dimly lit tunnel, leading into the nether earth.

Tucking his wand safely into his robes, Dumbledore ventured into the tunnel, as the cave wall reappeared behind him, closing off the world behind.

He walked on for about five minutes, before he noticed a faint glimmering of light ahead. Stepping out of the tunnel, he saw before him the very Anastyna Mrins. Her long, almost whitish blond hair hung over her face, as she sat at a low table, gazing into the fire.

'Welcome, Albus.' She smiled, the light reflecting off her deep blue eyes. 'We have much to talk about, don't we?'

She steepled her hands, and resting her elbows on the top of the low table she was seated at, gestured for Dumbledore to sit opposite her.

Dumbledore settled himself into the low chair beside the table. 'Anastyna.' he greeted. 'You don't look any older then you did 50 years ago.'

She laughed, a musical note that lilted softly in the air. 'Don't flatter me, Albus. Though it is true, we clairvoyants weather slower than those on the outside, with the evils of the world to resist.' She grew silent though, and viewed him thoughtfully over the table. 'You've come here asking about the Malfoy heir, haven't you?' She inquired softly. 'How are things holding up for you, and the Order of the Phoenix?'

Dumbledore did not express any surprise at how she came to know about the secret society. With nothing much to do in a cave beyond meditating, and peering into the future, a medium tended to get extremely bored. Leaning forward on the table, he proceeded to tell her all about the situation of the world outside.

Much, much later, he settled back again, looking upon Anastyna with eyes that belied his age without its usual twinkle. 'I see.' The medium frowned. 'Things are heading to the extreme there. It's no wonder you and your kind are getting worried. I can see why the Malfoys would be invaluable to your cause. Yet Albus, i can't promise you anything. The fire doesn't lie, and i can't manipulate it, even if i tried. A Veela's mate is predetermined. It is not up to us to pick and choose.'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Somehow i knew you would say that.' He admitted. He looked up, with a slight idea in his mind. 'Could I just watch the family for a while though? I know they're on their way here, perhaps i could just look in while you work your fire for them.'

Anastyna smiled. 'You know I'd do anything for you, Dumbledore.'

Dumbledore gave her a grateful smile. As he heard footsteps draw closer, echoing against the walls of the tunnel, he quickly retreated to a dim corner, muttering an advanced disillusionment spell as he did so.

Lucius Malfoy and his wife stepped into the cave a minute later. He bowed deeply. 'Anastyna' He pronounced formally.

'Lucius Malfoy, and your wife, Narcissa.' Upon Anastyna's smile and greeting of acknowledgement, he put a hand around Narcissa's shoulder, leading her to the table. Seating her at the table, he then pulled a chair up for himself.

'You know what I'm here for.' He said, more a statement then a question, silvery-gray eyes piercing into hers.

Anastyna smiled her mysterious smile. 'True,' she agreed. 'Your son's mate. I did expect to see you a bit later though. Perhaps when your child had been born.'

Narcissa interrupted. 'We thought it'd be better to come earlier.' She demurred, glancing at her husband. 'The Dark Lord... of late he has been pressing us for an answer towards our loyalty for the upcoming decade. Draco may have been conceived but three months ago, but you should be able to tell us his mate, even now. We wish to know of the answer before the child is born, to determine if our loyalty belongs to the Light, or the Dark.'

Anastyna pensively gazed at the couple. 'Come,' she beckoned, leading them to the center of the chamber, where a silent, blue fire burned. She threw some powder from a pot into the fire, watching as it stirred into life. The Malfoys leaned closer to the fire, drawn to the cloudy images that were soon moving to life in the flame.

 _A boy's face soon swam into view. His light blond hair hung loosely, brushing his shoulders and framing his chiseled face, with high cheekbones, and a strong jaw. His eyes were silvery gray, like his father's, yet, burning with a light that Narcissa had seen before, on the day that Lucius had found her._

Narcissa raised a hand towards the image. 'Draco...' she murmured. Anastyna nodded. 'A fine young man he'll become.' She predicted. 'Now..hear what he has to say.'

 _Draco turned slightly to the side, obviously addressing someone else. 'Mother!' He exclaimed with such affection and excitement that that Narcissa felt her heart give a squeeze, for the man her son would be, and how proud she felt of him even now, when he was not even in this world yet._

 _'I found him! After all this time, I found him here of all places. Isn't this wonderful?' His eyes shone bright, and Narcissa watched as an older version of her and Lucius ran over to embrace Draco, sharing in his joy._

 _The older version of Lucius leaned out of the three-way hug. 'And what house does he belong to, son?' Draco put a hand on his father's shoulders. 'Gryffindor, dad.'_

 _Lucius chuckled deeply. 'As we always knew it would be, Drake.' Laughing affectionately, they embraced yet again._

Narcissa watched as the image faded away, plunging back into the recesses of the fire. 'Now, you have your answer.' the clairvoyant whispered. 'Draco Malfoy, the first in six generations of Malfoy to have a Light mate.'

Lucius looked at her straight in the eye. 'And we love him all the same. Possibly even more now.'

The medium smiled. 'I never had any doubt.' As she showed them to the entrance of the tunnel, she reminded them. 'Remember, Draco should never be party to what you saw today. After all...'

Lucius finished her sentence for her. '-The chase, and what he receives in the end is what makes it all worthwhile.' Giving the medium a conspiratorial glance, he then looped his arm around Narcissa. 'My father told me that, and he was never proved wrong. Besides, like in my case, you never gave him any specifics, such as hair colour anyway. What could I tell?' Shrugging his shoulders, he pulled Narcissa forwards. 'Let's be off honey, before it's twilight and the dratted mountain starts snowing! Now all that remains is to inform Lord Voldemort...'

With an amiable wave goodbye, the Malfoys departed.

As the footsteps finally died down into nothingness, Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows, his familiar twinkle now firmly back in his eyes. 'Your fire has shown me the most welcome news yet, Anastyna. The Malfoys might not join the Light side yet, however now at least they would hold more than just apathy for us. Joining us might not be so far off after all,' he mused.

Anastyna nodded. 'The Dark Side holds nothing for them now. Albus…before you go. I did see something before that I wanted to share. It concerns…-' At this she paused, obviously troubled by what she was going to say. 'The chosen one.'

Albus looked up sharply, his attention captured. 'Yes?' he inquired; the tinge of excitement visible in his voice.

Anastyna frowned, her eyebrows coming sharply together. 'I am not permitted to give you too much, the future is at stake. Yet…be careful, when you decide who the chosen one is. Much might appear to be to be one thing, yet keep in mind: what appears to be might not necessarily be.'

Albus did not understand her cryptic warning, in fact he would not until at least fifteen years later, but still, he gave his warmest thanks, and bidding her farewell, started his journey down the mountain.

Anastyna sighed, as once again, she was left in solitude in her chamber. Tossing some powder into the fire, she once again gazed upon the images.

'Yes, she murmured. 'The future holds much for him, the Chosen One.'

As the winds blew, and the snow started to fall, the Malfoys and Dumbledore returned to Britain. A month later, James and Lily Potter announced what they had been suspecting for two months now. Lily Potter was pregnant.

With twins.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi!

Chapter two is really messed up and I have friend multiple things to fix it. Remember, the first five chapters were copied and pasted from the original story, so I might've messed up. I still want you to be able to read it, though, so I will link the second chapter from the original story.

The author has been so nice and supportive! The chapters 6-10, which I created, were put on his account. I am sorry for the inconvenience, but after you read chapter two there make sure to come back for chapter three!

2nd chapter: s/3085426/2/The-Colour-of-Ever-After

-Midday


	3. Chapter 3

Remember, I own nothing so far. Enjoy!

'Lily, you're overreacting. The first night out we have without the twins and you're in a rush to get home after dinner.' James frowned, still clearly upset about having to miss the Halloween blockbuster of the year.

Lily strained forward in her seat, eyes carefully searching the road ahead. 'I just have this feeling... that something bad is going to happen tonight. Maybe I am being silly.' She laughed nervously, the twinge of wory still pricking at her mind. Something was going to happen tonight, she was sure of it.

'Maybe it's just because it's Halloween.' James suggested. 'All these crazy teens dressed up as ghouls and looking like ... _Snape_ , the evil pumpkins... I'm sure everything is going to be just fi-'

The words died off in James' throat, ending with a disbelieving splutter, as the car rounded the bend, into Godric's Hollow. Or rather, what was left of it.

A crowd of people stood forlornly against the burning remains of the once majestic Godric's Hollow, ancient home of the Potters.

Lily snapped her seatbelt off, wrenching the car door open and breaking into a near sprint, even before the car had come to a halt. James too, left the engine running, as close behind his wife, they made their way to the burnt remains- where hopefully, against all hope, they would find their children.

 _A few hours ago..._

The nanny lay on the floor. Her outstretched hand, limp on the floor.

Lord Voldemort stood idly above her, twirling his wand. 'Pathetic.' he sneered in his mind. Turning around, he took in the warm comfort of the home he was in. Bright candles glinted cheerfully, complementing the warm glow of the fire. Small candies littered the table, while random toys were scattered around the floor. Altogether a very family-orientated home. He sneered once again. 'Simply pathetic.'

Striding over to the nursery, he opened the door. Slipping in, he was greeted by two pairs of eyes, one green, one blue. Stepping over to the crib, Lord Voldemort looked down at the twins. Killing one twin first over the other didn't really make a dfference. After all, he was Lord Voldemort. What babe could possibly have the power to conquer him? No, the right decision would be to eliminate the small threats while they were, and prevent a tiny snowball from escalating to a major problem in the future.

He smiled, a cruel uptwisting of lips in a face long distorted by evil. A lesson learnt in the past, and carried out efficiently.

Raisng his wand at the twin he had chosen, he uttered the incarnation 'Avada Kedava!'

* * *

Harry ws unconscious. Will, however, was still awake when the Potters, frantic with worry when they saw the burnt remains from down the street, came scrambling over, with Dumbledore, surprisingly agile for such an old man, leading the way.

Dumbledore reached down and plucked a wailing Will up fom among the rubble. His bright eyes scanned the little boy, finally resting on the long scar across Will's cheek, still bleeding fresh. Before he could touch it however, a bright flash of almost dark magic seared out from Will, scrambling Dumbledore's adept sensory nerves.

Dumbledore rose, his eyes brandishing his hope. With such a powerful form of Dark Magic coming from the little boy, it was obvious that Voldemort had tried to... Will was The One, he was sure of it. He turned to face the Potters, where Lily had just picked up the unconscious Harry, covered in the fine dust of rubble, and nestling him into her arms after checking he was in no harm with general spells. 'Lily, James.' he breathed.

Lily stopped her fussing, and drew her eyes to her son in Dumbledore's arms. Inexplicably, she felt a sense of dread overwhelm her so fast, as clingy as the black night. She was sure something she wouldn't want to hear would soon be forced upon her. She braced herself, even as James' eyes betrayed his worry too.

'Behold.' Dumbledore pronounced. 'Your son, the Saviour of the wizarding world.'

* * *

About three months after Voldemort's attack, James and Lily decided to pay a visit to Diagon Alley. Without having to be in constant hiding, the whole family was still enjoying the freedom that came with it, regardless of how William often got spotted and heralded by a crowd of curious and devoted people. Will and Harry were bundled up in their clothes as protection against the frost that nipped around them, while being pushed in their twin stroller.

With the crowd surging around them, the family managed to make their way to Flourishes and Botts. There, Lily tried looking for the new book on Advanced Charms, but soon gave up after yet another surge of wizards and witches pushed her back.

'Urgh, I just hate it when Diagon Alley is so crowded.' She complained to her husband, who was also wearing a harried look as he struggled against the influx of people.

'Here, dear. Rest in this corner for a while.' James ushered his wife into the recently-vacated corner, while he checked on the twins in the stroller, who had started fussing.

A shadow fell over them.

Looking up, they saw the tall figure of Lucius Malfoy. 'Well, well, well.' he murmured. 'What a sight for sore eyes. The Potters.' He snorted derisively.

James jumped up. 'And you just cured my cataracts.' He snorted, the sarcasm noticeable in his voice. Although they did not hold any serious enmity among them, some Gryffindor and Slytherin prejudices had carried on from their school days. Furthermore, with Dumbledore and Voldemort announcing the exclusion of the Malfoys from Voldemort's forces, James tried not to make any serious threats.

After all, as Dumbledore pointed out to the Order, though his son's mate might belong to the Light, there was no guarantee the Malfoys would lift a finger to help, should the need arise. They were steadfastly neutral, which frustrated James. How could people stay neutral in times like these? He wondered. In the midst of his ponderings, he then noticed the toddler nestled in Lucius' arms, looking curiously at the world passing back. 'And this is Malfoy Junior i suppose. Same hair, same features, as your clan. Unfortunately.'

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow disdainfully. 'Which is more then what your sons have been blessed, or rather cursed with, Potter. I wonder whether the... _Saviour,'_ he sneered, has your unfortunate characteristics, or his brother, obviously the runt of the family. Either way, it would be a horrible tragedy for whichever one.'

In the midst of their bickering, nobody noticed little Draco extend chubby hands towards the stroller just below him, as a mop of untidy black hair peeked out from under.

Green eyes met blue, and then blinked, before retreating back into the shade of the stroller.

Inexplicably, Draco started to wail. Loudly.

Malfoy, flustered, moved to assuage the little boy's discomfort, but to no avail. In the end, he settled for striding away quickly, with a tossed 'See you later, Potter,' reply, even as the little boy's sobs grew louder and louder.

'Looks like his son doesn't like him too much.' James muttered sarcastically, steering the stroller out of the corner, as he missed the look in Lily's eyes.

 **Lily**

Lily had felt the weird feeling inside of her all day. It was a mix of an ache, yet a resigned feeling. As she mixed the sauce to marinate the chicken in, voices flooded her mind.

 _'Lily dear! Let me see the delightful saviour of the world! God, he's so cute! Aren't you just proud to have such a famous son?'_

 _'...his brother, obviously the runt of the family...'_

 _'Sorry? You mean William has a twin? Wow, guess the papers must have missed that out.'_

She shook her head, trying desperately to rid herself of the voices that had stuck in her head, long after their owners had uttered the same damned words.

Somehow, she just couldn't.

 **James**

Lily had been acting weird all day, James noticed. After their trip to Diagon Alley, she had taken to staring at the children playing on the floor, each taking turns to whack wooden blocks into structures, her cooking all but forgotten. When she finally left the chicken too long, and it was burnt to a crisp, James brought her aside to the bedroom.

'Lily, what's wrong?' he asked, eyes intensely focused on her, whilst she squirmed.

Lily squared up, green eyes flaring up to that passionate colour that James knew would always lead to some big revelation. 'James, I've been thinking. About our future, and the children's. Maybe we could send Harry somewhere for a while, while we manage Will?' At the look in her husband's eyes, she plowed onwards quickly, trying to stave off the incoming attack. 'St Patrick's Home is a non-magical home just in the next state. It's really well-known for raising children well! We could send Harry there, while we-'

James snorted angrily, cutting off her speech. 'What is this really about, Lils? Two of them, two of us. How big a trouble is it really? It's not like we can't handle our own children! Tell me!' he insisted.

'Look James, I just don't want Harry to grow up feeling like Petunia did, alright?' James' eyes softened, as he saw his wife fight back tears. Forcing back a few tears, she continued.

'You know my parents always supported me when they found out I was a witch. Maybe a bit too much. Petunia didn't have enough attention, I took up most of it, and maybe that led to her feelings of bitterness, and that we are the way we are today. That probably caused the rift between our parents and her too. I don't want Harry and Will to grow up with that kind of feelings between them. And, I don't want Harry to grow up feeling that way about us.' Lily sniffed, finishing her say.

James' mind was racing, even as he fumbled for the right words. 'But Lils, isn't that attitude kind of defeatist? Do you mean to tell me, that you'd rather our son grow up without _us_ , then with bad feelings?'

Lily squared up. 'Trust me James, if you had seen the way Petunia really loathed our family, you'd feel the same way too.'

'But how'd you know he'd feel the same as Petunia? People are different, Lils, Harry mightn't feel the same. And the circumstances are different!'

'How so, James?' Lily countered. 'Will's the saviour of the wizarding world. Just like how Malfoy phrased it this morning. Will's the Saviour, while Harry will always only be remembered as his brother.'

James sputtered. 'Don't worry about what that arrogant bastard thinks Lils! He should just be putting a sock in it, that's all!'

Lily heaved a sigh. 'Malfoy isn't my point James. Everybody must be thinking like how Malfoy is already. Even if Harry would grow up to be a good wizard, his brother will always overshadow him. Comparisons are bound to be made all the time. Would you want our son to grow up always feeling inadequate?'

James could feel his frustration building. 'So what's the bottom line, Lils? You're saying you want to abandon your son just because you're afraid of something that might or might not happen?'

Lily bowed her head. 'Yes, I do.'

'Shit Lils, do you know what you're doing? Harry and William are both my sons! and now you're asking me to...choose?'

Lily shook her head emphatatically. 'I'm not asking you to choose, James! I've thought about this. The St Patrick's Home is a wonderful home. It houses all children, and gives them good education too! Maybe after Harry gets out of his formative years, maybe when he's in his teens, then we could fetch him back again? We could also focus more on Will now, teach him how to protect himself better. Then, when we get Harry back again we would be better equipped to share our attention equally, instead of when both need alot of attention in these coming years.'

James enfolded his wife in his arms, hugging her tight. 'Lily, are you sure you know what you're doing?' his voice muffled in her shoulder.

'Yes James, I do know.'

James then nodded, his head still buried in her shoulder. 'Then we'll do as you wish.' He finally murmured.

Lily smiled, even as tears gathered in her eyes.

Sirius and Remus proved even harder to convince, Sirius especially.

'I will NOT allow you to do this to my godson!' he snarled. Things were flung at the walls, many items broken, but Sirius still refused to listen to reason.

In the end, James had to go with Sirius into a room and battle it out, words or otherwise. Two hours later, after much shouting and pleads escaped from the room, Sirius emerged with a broken nose, but with a resigned look in his eyes. 'Fine, Lily,' he muttered. 'Go ahead and do what you want. I may agree to this now, but don't say I didn't tell you so in the future.'

Lily thanked him softly. 'Don't thank me.' Sirius tossed back, brushing against her as he left the house for a smoke outside. 'I'm only doing this for Harry.'

Remus had watched all the proceedings from a chair. When amber eyes alighted on Lily, she sighed. 'You don't think I'm right to insist on this?' She asked wearily. Remus was the one she was closest to of all James' friends and she valued his insight for the new perspective it always gave.

Remus pulled thoughtfully on his growing stubble. 'I don't particularly ... agree with you. Yet, as long as you feel you're doing it all in Harry's interest, I don't believe anyone can find fault with this. As long as it's all in the children's interest.'

Lily smiled and crossed the room to hug Remus. 'Thank you,' she breathed, even as she realized that Remus had never directly supported her idea, only indirectly saying it was not wrong.

Remus smiled understandingly. 'I just hope you won't come to regret it, Lily.' he whispered, before joining Sirius outside.

 _A few months later:_

James looked at Harry, who was currently sleeping in his arms. His gaze softened, as it always did when one of his children was involved. A tuft of unruly black hair curled over Harry's forehead, slightly hiding the scar he had gotten from the attack.

James' eyes darkened as he smoothed a thumb over Harry's forehead. The wound had never fully healed, as expected, and instead a faint outline, resembling a lightning-bolt remained. Will's famous scar on the cheek however, had almost faded, save a different skin tone.

As he walked further and further away from the car, and more into the grounds of St Patrick's, James wondered at what had led him to give his child up. More than anything else, he just didn't want to see his child hurt. And if Harry was going to be hurt more whilst with him, James wasn't going to take that chance, even if it meant separation from Harry. He loved his son, both of them, more than anything, and that feeling would never change, he swore.

James glanced back. Lily had chosen to stay at home, claiming she had already said her goodbye. James somehow felt better. That allowed him the precious few minutes alone with Harry, and he was going to treasure every minute of it.

Reaching the door, James hesitated for a minute, before lifting his hand and knocking.

Sister Marie looked over her Superior's shoulder, and saw the blue car pulling out of the driveway. She then noticed the little one dressed in blue overalls, clutching Mother Superior's hand while he gazed out of the window. 'Aw, he's so cute!' she exclaimed, as Harry plantively called out 'Papa?' as the blue car drove out of sight.

Mother Superior sighed. 'Oh, another abandoned baby?' a visibly deflated Marie asked, more a statement then a question.

'Yes.' Mother Superior replied. 'It never stops amazing me how these people are willing to give such gifts up, for such reasons as they normally give.' Passing a glance over Harry, she murmured. 'They didn't give a reason for this one though. Poor thing.'

Marie chucked sympathetically. 'Well he's better off here with us now.' she said empathetically. 'I'll take him to the nursery.' She gently stooped to Harry's eye level. 'Come on, honey,' she coaxed gently. 'Let's look at the toys in the playroom, shall we?'

Harry smiled, flashing his teeth. He held out his hands, expecting to be carried. Marie grinned, and instead took one hand to walk him along. With Harry clutching her hands, she led him down the hall.

Mother Superior turned back to the window, contemplating the scenery outside. 'Oh wait.' she called out. 'The father had only one request, that we still call him by his given name - Harry.'


	4. Chapter 4

_Remember, I own nothing so far. Enjoy!_

 _A few years later …_

Will Potter blinked up from the steadily burning candles on his birthday cake, blazing a trail down to the cake. The bold lettering iced on top proudly proclaimed 'Happy 17th Birthday Will!' in stylish fonts. Family and friends surrounded the table, all beaming fondly at the birthday boy, his jet black hair tinted red by the firelight, and hazel eyes reflecting the glow.

Gazing around the table Will could see his parents; James grinning his trademark cue-girls-swooning grin, and Lily, half hidden behind a camera, getting rather trigger-happy. Sirius, Remus, and the various members of the clan, their faces all lit up by the happy glow of the candles, lending a warm burnish to their features.

This should have been the perfect setting, showcasing the perfect family. This should have been one of the happiest days of Will's year. This should have been a day where everyone was just filled with the joy of celebrating the anniversary of a loved one's entry into the world.

It should have been.

It would have been. In fact, to the observer, it probably was.

Yet to Will's eyes, it was anything but.

Beneath the happy smiles of the people gathered around, Will could still detect the undercurrent that was rapidly pulsing beneath. Regret, guilt … these emotions ran rampant under the surface.

And it was all because of one person – Will's younger brother, Harry. Harry was younger by just under a minute, but that didn't matter to Will. He could still feel the protective instinct for his brother coursing through his veins, even though he wasn't still … here. It didn't matter to Will that his brother wasn't alive, the brotherly protection, and the way he fiercely guarded his brother's memory was very much burning alive. Even though he couldn't remember anything at all about his brother (his mother had assured him that he was way too young when Harry was lost to remember any concrete memories, and many books and studies proved that too.), he still treasured the feeling that for a moment in time, he had a brother in his life.

After the cake cutting ceremony was over, and people dispersed around the room, making small talk, Will wandered over to his father, who was leaning against the wall, viewing the happy family with a content look in his eyes. His lips curved up peacefully in a small smile. Yet Will, who had known his father for all of his life, could plainly see the pensive look plastered all over his face.

'Hey dad.' Will murmured, leaning against the wall too, a drink propped up in his hands.

'What's up, son!' James smiled genuinely. 'How's this party huh? Your mum's a terrific organizer, I must say.'

'Great.' Will replied. 'Would be better if Harry was still here.' He murmured under his breath.

James caught it, and he shifted uncomfortably in his position. 'Don't go talking about these sort of stuff now, Will. It's bad enough that-'

'That his death anniversary is two weeks later right?' Will retorted, and angrily stalked away, trashing his drink into a nearby can. Concerned eyes followed him.

James winced, and slouched down even further. 'No.' he whispered, though no one could hear him. 'That we made you think he died.'

* * *

Will slumped moodily to the ground under a tall oak tree, his hands fisting in the clean, cold soil. He tossed the soil into the nearby lake with an angry growl, and watched the tiny fragments of rock splatter into the lake, splintering the calm water, and making the reflections on the water dance away into nervous circles.

His birthdays always made him feel so … helpless. He hated feeling like somehow on this day; something had been given to him. And barely a year and two weeks later, that something had been taken away from him.

Maybe if he had had Harry he could have coped with all the attention the world gave him better. Sure, the attention was great, but after awhile he felt as if he was … changing for the world. To be what the world expected him to be. He needed someone to keep him real. And maybe he would have had that someone, had his twin stayed by his side. A twin that he would have shared his life with.

But he didn't have Harry now, did he?

He startled briefly as he felt someone sit next to him, plopping himself onto the soil. Remus' profile met his gaze. Remus' eyes were trained solely on the foliage surrounding the lake, and Will slowly turned back, accepting the silent comfort Remus offered.

'Sucks that Harry isn't here to share it with me.' Will spoke plainly. He never had to hide his feelings with Remus. Remus … understood. And he knew when to keep his mouth shut, or when to offer helpful words. Which was all Will was looking for.

Remus cocked his head at an angle, viewing his godson's solemn visage. 'I seem to recall a similar conversation last year.'

'This year's different.' Will confessed. 'I know I always missed having someone my age in the family, but this upcoming year's going to be difficult. Dumbledore was already on my case last year about how I wasn't really taking an active role in my development, and I think this year I have to really step it up.'

'Dumbledore's just looking out for your future, Will.' Remus placated, putting a reassuring hand on Will's shoulder. 'You know that you're the-'

'The frigging Boy-Who-Lived right?' Will retorted, sounding aggrieved. 'I've never felt of myself as special. You know, if I had to be the one with the power to knock Voldemort out' Will ignored Remus' wince. 'How can I not feel _anything_? Anything at all! Special people should be feeling something.' Will ground out. 'I can knock a bludger around the field, and I'm passing all my subjects, but how does that make me anything other than average?'

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Will beat him to it.

'What if … everyone's wrong? What if I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived. Because I really don't think I am.'

Crickets sang softly in the background as Will abruptly turned and got up, leaving Remus to ponder over the lake once again, his mind significantly more troubled than it was when he first sat down.

* * *

Remus sank down into the comfy chair across Dumbledore, the great expanse of his table separating them. He politely refused the lemon drop offered him, and got straight to the point.

'Will is doubting that he is the Boy-Who-Lived.'

Dumbledore hardly looked surprised. Then again, news never did seem to surprise him. He was imperturbable in all the times Remus had seen him.

'That is not so much a shock. Hard as this might seem to you, I myself am doubting him.' Dumbledore sighed heavily, avoiding Remus' incredulous gaze.

'What!' Remus exploded, jumping up from his seat. 'But you've been telling us for years that he is The One!'

'Remus.' Dumbledore's tone caused Remus to sit back into the chair. 'Look at the situation from an objective point of view. Will's a great kid, and he's done an excellent job of coping with the adverse attention over the years. Lily and James really did a wonderful job of raising him. But are you sensing anything from him? I've put him in defense classes, in combat lessons, and I've tried coaching him personally. But he isn't exuding what I expected to see. The power that is needed, I don't know where it's coming from.'

'So you're saying that over these years you've somehow lost confidence in William's abilities and obviously, Will is starting to get insecure too!'

Dumbledore shook his head. 'It's not that I don't believe he's the Boy-Who-Lived. The way he survived the attack, and that Dark Magic I felt from him was definitely because of how he defeated Voldemort. But…'

'You need to know where the power came from.' Remus stated; more of a question than a statement.

Dumbledore nodded. 'It's not tied to his physical self, nor is it apparent in any of his skills, I need to see whether it's hidden deep below the surface, and if so, what it is tied to. And I know just the spell to help us see.'

* * *

 _Three weeks later…_

Will shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his jean pockets. Lily and James on both sides of him squeezed his shoulder comfortably. They were standing in the meeting room of the Order of the Phoenix. Almost all the members were there, except for those currently posted on overseas missions. It was a big day after all! It wasn't exactly every day that you got to see the Boy-Who-Lived defeat the Dark Lord. A memory of it, at least.

Dumbledore was at the podium addressing the Order. Already most of his speech had been delivered, and he had outlined the reason for the spell, and how it would benefit the Order to be able to get an innermost glimpse of the events that had occurred that fateful Halloween night.

'-And since this memory is taken from Will, we will be getting a first-person account of how the events transpired. Perhaps by witnessing it, we of the Order will be better able to find the source of Will's power, and possibly use it to better prepare Will for the upcoming face-off. After all, the Dark Lord has been secretly gathering forces on the outskirts of Britain for years now, and rumours indicate that we need to be prepared. And with the knowledge for how Will defeated Voldemort the last time now, Will could lead us on to defeat the Dark Lord - for good.'

With that inspiring speech over, Dumbledore walked off the podium to rousing cheers.

'Will.' He beckoned, and Will reluctantly walked before the circular table where the Order was seated around. He glanced around, registering Mad Eye Moody, and his magical eye swiveling rapidly, Remus, Sirius, (who gave an encouraging wink), Tonks, and many more.

He squeezed his eyes shut suddenly. He was in front of people he had grown up with, in the countless meetings he had attended since his youth, when James and Lily had finally deemed him old enough to participate, and he had formed strong connections with all of them. Somehow, he felt like he was truly baring his soul.

Dumbledore raised his wand to Will's temple. 'Relax, Will.' He urged. 'It's going to be like taking your memory out for the Pensive, but because of the age of the memory, and at the young age which you experienced it, the memory will be adapted a bit, so it wouldn't be from the fuzzy moments you remember of it, but what it truly was. It won't hurt at all.'

Will nodded, bracing himself.

Dumbledore murmured a long string of incantations, his wand glowing a bright blue, and vibrating hard. Lily viewed the wand with apprehension, as did most of the Order.

As he withdrew his wand from Will's forehead, a small bubble, encased in a fluid that swirled constantly, catching the light and breaking them up into tiny rivulets, followed.

All eyes were riveted.

Dumbledore quickly levitated the bubble away from the wand, and shifted it to the centre of the table. There, the bubble rapidly grew bigger, until it pulled the whole Order into the room where 16 years ago, the most memorable battle was waged.

Everyone's eyes were drawn to the nanny lying on the floor, with Lily drawing a hand to cover her gasp as she was forced to recall the sweet young girl of seventeen, just out of Hogwarts, that had kindly offered to babysit for the twins while the Potters went for some alone time.

Lily had always remembered her, even after the victory, she had never forgotten, and often went to visit the young girl's ailing parents, who after everything, didn't put the blame on anyone, but preferred to remember their only daughter as the person she was before her death, and how she was thankfully the last of the casualties of the First War.

Lily drew her eyes up to the hateful monster, Voldemort, standing before the twin's crib. He was casually twirling his wand, obviously thinking about which twin to choose, with no idea what was about to befall him. Lily's mouth drew up in a hate filled sneer. She detested that monster.

She noticed Will staring fixatedly at his brother – Harry, and felt a catch form in her throat. 'You've chosen this path, Lily.' She reminded herself cruelly. 'You knew that by sending Harry away you wouldn't be having any contact with him anytime soon. And that Will wouldn't either. It's for the best.' She tried to convince herself with this argument she had used herself countless times in her head, but this time it was a little harder, especially seeing Harry again.

It was different from seeing him in little snapshots of the family (that Will and James insisted on displaying around the house), before the attack occurred. The photographs, charmed wizardly as they were, were still limited views of what the world was like then. All she had was little two-d versions of a babe that looked like Harry, but somehow, by the coldness of the photograph, the essence of who Harry was had somehow faded away from her mind.

And now she was looking at him again. The way his little dimples would crinkle in his baby fat, and how he used to try to clamber out of the crib, the little noises he would make that a picture could never capture.

Lily was brought out of her memory daze by the sound of Voldemort raising his wand, and him uttering the words 'Avada Kedava!'

The green light sped towards the cot, even as everyone witnessing the memory drew in a gasp at the cold finality of the words.

Another gasp was in order though, as the green light hit … Harry Potter.

The green light hit Harry square in the forehead, and everyone drew in a collective breath, minds pounding, even as Harry emitted a deep blue glow, surrounding the green light, overpowering it, and rendering it useless. Voldemort's eyes widened as the blue glow did not retreat, but instead rebounded, as sharp as a razor blade. The dangerous blue light hit Voldemort, and it was seconds later before dark blue flames, licking up at him, completely decimated him, leaving nothing but a wisp of smoke. The flames leapt at the walls too, slowly setting the place on fire.

The group watched silently, thoughts attacking their brains even as they watched Harry fall unconscious from the strain, to up to when Dumbledore and the Potters arrived on the scene, and Will was proclaimed the Boy-Who-Lived.

Slowly, the scene faded out, and the Order was left standing in the room. Only this time, all hell was about to break loose.

Everyone broke loose of their haze at the same time, all shouting at the tops of their voices.

'Did we just see what I thought I saw? That is-'

'This is not possible. How can it be that-'

'-So we got it all wrong from the beginning-'

'Harry Potter is the one! How did we-'

'But Harry Potter _died_! He died after the attack! So-'

'Maybe it was the Dark Magic interfering with his systems and now-'

'Then what about Will! Now he's definitely not the Boy-Who-Lived and that's-'

'Silence!' Dumbledore bellowed. All voices came to a halt, crashing into each other in the silence that ensued.

Dumbledore glanced around at the Potter family. Lily looked shell-shocked, and just more than a little bit guilty, for reasons Dumbledore didn't know yet. Will looked a little worse for the wear, but Dumbledore detected more than a slight bit of relief in his eyes. Dumbledore smiled. This kid was going to turn out alright. James… he was on the verge of revealing something.

Albus Dumbledore knew when was the moment to wait, and now wait he did, peering encouragingly at James through his half-moon spectacles.

James cleared his throat in the sudden silence. 'Dumbledore? I suppose that now is the time to tell everyone that actually, Harry is very much alive.'

This time, Dumbledore couldn't stop the outraged voices that flew forward in a cacophony.

After the disaster of the meeting, and the revelations brought forward, there was now only a few things certain for the Order.

One, Will was not the Chosen One, Harry was.

Two, he was alive.

Three, they had to find him.


	5. Chapter 5

Remember, I own nothing so far, but the next chapter will be purely mine. Enjoy!

'We've searched everywhere! You know, what I don't get is how all of us could possibly not find one single kid.' Tonks bemoaned, after yet another overseas mission had returned with no positive results. 'The kid is nowhere to be found in France, Germany, or even Bulgaria for Criss sakes!'

James ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, tangling them up into even more inscrutable knots.

'Asia's impossible, there's simply too many schools springing up nowadays. But we've tried all the major ones that have been around for years, and he's simply not in them! Would be pretty simple to pick out one Caucasian in that mix though…' Tonks mused.

James sighed yet again, for his millionth time that hour that they had spent cooped up in St James, going over the records yet again.

'Damn that fire.' James muttered. 'Now all we got to go on are these records that are absolutely _useless_!'

Tonks flicked her head, roughly scattering her long mane, purple in this phase of her life, away. Gazing at James over the tome she was pouring over, she frowned. 'James-'

James exploded.

'They are useless! From these records I know that my son had black hair and green eyes. I knew that since he was born! He failed math and excelled in physics. He lived in Dorm 21 with two other guys. He played basketball in his free time. So what? This useless piece of crap doesn't tell me what he likes, whether he's taller than Will, whether he even _looks_ like Will, whether he likes those crazy head-banging bands that Will adores, what kind of girls he chases, and most importantly, _who_ adopted him and _where_ he was taken to! This tells me _nothing_.'

Tonks' eyes softened. 'James, you can find out what your son is like when we find him. Because we _will_ find him. But for now, you're right. We don't know who adopted him back in 1990, and where he is now. But the least we can do is try, like so many others have, and are still doing!'

James exhaled. 'You're right. It's just maybe sometimes I worry that … after all this time when Lily and I pretended he died, maybe … he really was dead, all this time.'

* * *

 _Two weeks later…_

'This is crazy. The newspapers have been plastered with the true story of what happened that night, the little we know about Harry, and even the efforts that are ongoing now to help locate him, after Dedalus spilled the bloody beans after a night out with too many rounds of vodka. Thousands of witches and wizards are calling in everyday to offer leads, or even their services. But … nothing.'

Sirius moaned, his legs swinging idly across the top of the sofa, even as he blinked owlishly at Remus, or rather, an upside-down Remus. He was whining, and he knew it.

'How's Will by the way?' Sirius enquired; seriousness now evident in his voice. 'Haven't been able to catch much of him, with all the time I spend Apparating to school after school. Is he … coping well?' he treaded delicately.

Remus smiled slightly. 'Truth be told, I think this is the best thing that's ever happened to Will. He's spent his whole life knowing that he wasn't good enough, just that others couldn't see it. Now, it's kind of like a liberation of sorts for him. He just really wants to find his brother though. Make up for lost time.'

Sirius grinned 'That sounds good.' He flopped down even further down the sofa, now his fringe was almost about to touch the carpeted floor.

Remus frowned. 'Stop lying on the sofa like that, Sirius. It's going to make you go to a chiropractor each Tuesday ten years from now if you keep it up.' He warned severely.

'Oh shush, Remy.' Sirius flung himself back up on the chair, this time the right side up. 'Just because my Aunt Agatha told you so don't mean it's true. She's probably using this chiropractor excuse to get away from my uncle anyway. He's a real bore. Warbles on all day about marbles. Lost his, that's for sure'

He shifted more comfortably, rearranging a particular cushion. 'Anyway, you got me all side-tracked from my story. How come there's nothing? It's been about three weeks. Even if he's under a cloaking spell or whatnot, there's no way Dumbledore can't get through it. And he's surely not _dead_ , because-'

Remus interrupted softly. 'What if he _is_ dead, Sirius?'

Sirius looked up sharply, but Remus' eyes were studiously trained on papers.

'He's not, alright?' Sirius bit back. 'He can't be. We just haven't searched enough schools, that's it. Or maybe he's home tutored. A boy of his talent? I'm sure that-'

He was interrupted yet again by another deep inhalation of breath by Remus.

Sirius looked over, annoyed, and fully intending to shut Remus up. The sparkle in Remus' eyes stopped him though.

'That's it.' Remus breathed, hope more visible in his voice than it had ever been these past weeks. 'He can't be found by Dumbledore's magical aura scanning right?'

Sirius nodded.

'And you said it yourself! _A boy of his talent._ '

'Yes, I know what I said.' Sirius replied, slightly irritated that he still wasn't getting it.

'Well, what if he's at Lantions?'

Sirius breathed in due to excitement. 'Lantions? That school where-? We never even thought of it! Man!'

Remus nodded, confirming it. 'Lantions.' He stated confidently.

And just like that, Remus was out of the door in a flash, most likely headed for Dumbledore's office.

* * *

 _Lantions, located in the central-southern part of Switzerland, among the Swiss Alps, and cloaked with a highly powerful spell preventing any possible skiers from seeing it, was famous. Not only as a legend among students of other schools, for the school's students, highly trained in all aspects of magic, and with 100 of the students guaranteed a place in the University, but also because of its selectiveness. One simply did not apply to Lantions. Neither could one transfer. Once you were a part of Lantions, you never left. And no one ever wanted to. This school hardly ever participated in any inter-school tournaments or events. Instead it preferred to grow inwards. With a population of 50 in every given year, it was born to succeed._

 _The Headmaster himself had founded this school, and was well approaching Dumbledore's age. He too, personally handpicked his students, determining which one had the strength and potential to make it in his school. None had ever disappointed him._

 _Every single parent in the wizarding world knew that if your son or daughter was handpicked by_ ** _the_** _Headmaster Randall, it was glory in the highest order for their offspring's future._

* * *

Not so long later, a team from Hogwarts strode into Lantions. Dumbledore, Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, and last but not least, Will. He had insisted on coming, once he had seen the true sparkle of hope in the eyes of everyone when the subject of Lantions was broached.

The school was really nice, Lily noticed. With the natural air conditioner from the cool surroundings, all the school needed was mild heating. The view of the surrounding mountains was excellent too. Peering out of the manifold bay windows, Lily caught glimpses of large, sprawling greenhouses, various small huts, and a Quidditch field, of course.

Will was striding along with unusual determination, Lily noticed. She really hoped he didn't get his hopes up too high; after all, this was just a hunch. 'But if a hunch, why does your heart beat so hard?' her traitorous mind whispered.

She brushed all these confusing thoughts away from her mind as soon as she saw a grey-headed man descend down the great marble stairs. He was way fitter than Dumbledore, Lily thought. Though the beard and the haphazard hair did bear more than a passing resemblance to Dumbledore's own mane, she conceded.

'Dumbledore!' the Headmaster practically sang. 'What a pleasant surprise!'

'We're not here on business, Randall.' Dumbledore said. 'Afraid that lemon drop tasting trip will have to wait. Though, this might prove to be more interesting.'

'I see.' The suddenly sober Headmaster turned, beckoning the way to his office. 'Come. We're going to be more comfortable in my study.'

The group silently trooped away, ignoring the passing students passing curious gazes over them.

* * *

'Harry!' A sharp squeal distracted Harry away from his book. He looked up only to see his best friend Alex leap into the chair nearest to him.

Harry glared only half-jokingly at him.

'Oops. Sorry. Did I flick you in the eye with my newest hair gel again? I can't help it!' Alex whined. 'Did you know that only this particular gel can make my hair stay the way it is? I honestly think it's the weather. Ever since I came to Lantions six years ago my hair has hardly managed to raise itself above its roots without dramatic effort. Or, without this miraculous gel!'

'Okay, stop with the advertising already!' Harry laughed.

'Anyway, I was walking in the hallway with Mirabelle when I noticed some aliens!' Alex chattered on, looking at Harry excitedly for some reaction.

'Like the time you claimed you were abducted by some in the lake outside?' Harry raised an eyebrow.

Alex pouted.

'Honestly! Did you know that when the mermaids hold ceremonies they dress up like weird scarecrows?'

Harry opened his mouth.

'Okay, don't say anything.' Alex rushed to fill. 'I know its somewhere in those textbooks of ours. Anyway, these aren't real aliens! I meant they're from a different country!'

Harry yawned. 'And this interests me how?' He inquired. 'You know the Headmaster always has visitors.'

Alex leaned forward in his chair, his eyebrows tightly knit together.

'But see Harry, here's the thing.'

Harry leaned forward, intrigued despite himself.

'-See, this one guy in those aliens? He looks like a mirror image of you!'

* * *

The Headmaster leaned forward in his chair slightly, fixing his eyes upon Dumbledore, after Dumbledore had filled in all the necessary introductions, and explained the reason for why they were here.

'-So we were just hoping that you might be able to tell us if you have a student in these halls, in Year 6, that might possibly fit our description.'

Headmaster Randall leaned back, steepling his fingers into a tent. 'I'm terribly sorry to learn of this just. With all our students cooped in here, focusing on their work with no connection to the outside world, one tends to forget to leave too, and that there is a world outside. One question, Albus. Does this particular boy bear a resemblance to Will Potter here?'

Dumbledore nodded eagerly. 'His identical twin.'

Randall exhaled, muttering 'Should have known. A kid with that kind of power I detected … he was going to be somebody; that I knew for sure.'

Lily asked timidly, 'So … he's here?'

Randall smiled. 'That he is, my friends.'

Sirius and Remus whooped for joy, each clapping their hands around each other's shoulders. Lily and James enfolded Will, whose eyes were glistening, in a three-way hug. Dumbledore rose, and shook Randall's hand.

When the commotion had settled down, Will ventured. 'Sir? Could you tell me about my brother please?'

Dumbledore added. 'Yes Randall, we would like to know how Harry ended up here. It is after all, pretty far off from Britain.'

'Yes, it is a rather strange story. Well, I suppose all present know that he was adopted from St James in 1990, when he was 10, by two very good friends of mine, Mr. and Mrs. Keller. They were trying unsuccessfully for a child for many years, and decided to adopt after no luck. As such, when they returned to Switzerland, with Harry, -'

'That's why the Hogwarts letter never reached him!' Sirius muttered to Remus. 'He was way off our boundaries; Hogwarts only enrolls those from Britain and surrounding countries that don't already have a school.'

'-I noticed he had a particular … aura. Maybe a presence.' Randall shook his head, trying to think of the word. 'Well, whatever it was, it intrigued me. So I made an analysis of him, and his powers more than qualified him for Lantions! In fact, I enrolled him a year early so that I could expand fully upon his potential by giving him private lessons. And he hasn't let me down; rather, he's more than capable than his whole cohort!'

Randall smiled broadly. 'Call it boasting, but I always knew this kid would amount to much. Which makes me wonder … why exactly would the Potters want to give Harry up?'

Lily and James exchanged nervous looks, with James swallowing visibly, guilt present in both their eyes.

Lily opened her mouth to reply, but was beat to it with the sound of the door swinging open.

* * *

'Yes, why did you choose to give me up?' drawled a low, smooth voice.

Turning around with a gasp, Lily was confronted with the face of her child who she had given up years ago – Harry.

The chairs of everyone clattered up, as they jumped to their feet, staring incredulously at the face of the kid they had said goodbye to all those years ago.

Lily noticed none of it, her eyes fixed only on her son.

He was so much like Will! Lily thought confusedly. But then again, not really. The hair color, bone structure, eye shape, even the nose was all the same! But, they combined together to different results. Will's face was open, and more trusting. Harry's face too, bore the sign of many good years, with laugh lines etched thinly into the corners of his mouth, and dimples. Yet, his face wasn't so much as … open as Will's.

In fact, now it bore open distrust.

The way he leaned indifferently against the door frame too, spoke of his casual elegance, and self awareness. His confidence was apparent in his stance, though in this case it might have been distaste. His clothes hung well off him, (must have turned a few heads around Lantions!), and his tanned complexion hinted at a life in the sun.

All these, led to one person. Harry Potter.

And Lily would have given anything to hug him right now.

His body language though, was telling everybody in the room to stay far, far, away.

Headmaster Randall chuckled, trying to dispel the tension. 'What have I told you about eavesdropping Harry?'

'Eavesdroppers never hear anything good. Apparently, that's true.' He replied, never taking his eyes off Lily, and not missing her wince. 'I didn't intend to eavesdrop, anyway. I just wanted to see my 'mirror image'. 'He stated plainly, putting quotation marks in the air.

He stared blatantly at Will, sizing him up. Will squirmed inside, but refused to show any sign of insecurity, instead choosing to gaze back evenly, lifting a slight smile to Harry's lips.

'So now that I have, I'll just be heading back.' Harry turned, and started to walk away.

'Harry, wait!' Sirius blurted out.

When Harry turned back inquiringly, eyebrows raised, Sirius rushed to make a plausible excuse for the impulse he had felt earlier on. 'Can't you stay and we could-'

'-Make even more pathetic excuses as to why you left me? No thanks. I've got better things to do.' Harry ruthlessly cut him off.

'Harry, wait. As your Headmaster, I believe it would be in your best interest to stay and listen.'

Sirius shot the Headmaster a grateful look, even as Harry stopped and considered. Then, with a light shrug, he stepped back into the room, to everyone's inner sigh of relief.

* * *

 _Hours later…_

Harry stepped back into the Rec room all Year Sixes shared. Alex and Mirabelle were sitting on the couch, legs entwined, and obviously sharing a very 'couple moment'. But once Alex noticed Harry he immediately pushed Mirabelle off his lap.

'Harry! You've been gone for hours! What'd you do huh? Do a whole body examination and compare with your mirror?' Alex wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

'You're a sick man, Hartmann.' Mirabelle pronounced. 'I don't even know why I'm sticking with you.'

'Cause I'm great in bed.' Alex smiled devilishly.

'Well, it could be that.' Mirabelle conceded, proceeding to giggle.

Upon seeing Harry face though, Alex quickly shooed Mirabelle out of the room. 'Come on luv! I'll talk to you soon.'

When Mirabelle had left, and Harry plopped down on the couch, Alex turned serious. 'Come on pal, you know I was just joking about that, don't you? What's up?'

Harry drew his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead on them.

'I don't know, exactly. I was actually planning on seeing that mirror image guy, then ribbing you about how unlike me he was.' His voice was muffled, coming out from beneath his arms.

'But then?' Alex prompted.

Harry lifted his head up, staring up at Alex with haunted eyes. 'He's more than like me, Alex. He's my twin. Will Potter.'

Alex sucked in a deep breath. 'The one that-'

'Yeah. The one from when we sneaked in some contraband newspapers, and we found a whole section on the Boy-Who-Lived. Yes. The one where I spent a whole day trying to figure why this boy looked so much like me. Once we figured it out, then we figured out where I came from huh?'

'Oh geez Harry! If I had known that was your twin I would have never-'

'You wouldn't have led me to him right?' Harry laughed hollowly. 'You're a good friend, Alex. But I'm glad I saw them though. Made it all real that I wasn't missing out on anything. They don't deserve me anyway, right?'

Alex nodded, eyes trained on his best friend's drained features. He'd known Harry ever since the Keller's, great friends with his mum, had brought him back from Britain. He'd seen the small, defensive boy of ten that always had felt the need to prove that he was better than everyone else, despite having been abandoned. Despite having been called a dumpster-baby by some bullies in St James, and never having any parents at his shows, events, or even at important moments at his life.

Alex had seen that kid, and his 10 year old self too, had vowed to be best friends with this battered kid.

And it had worked. After months of sticking to Harry's side like a leech, Harry slowly started confiding in him, and after a year, the two were the best of buds. It seemed like fate when they were both invited to Lantions.

In Harry, Alex had found his best friend that saw past his cheery and zany exterior that made people dismiss him as … kind of a himbo. And in Alex, Harry had found someone that had managed to break past his cool exterior, and the walls he had built up over the years, to find the true Harry inside.

But now, Alex mused, seeing Harry this confused and hurt, was almost as if Harry was back to those dark days again. Where he trusted no one but himself.

Harry looked up, his lashes blinking against his eyebrow. 'Alex, they asked me to join Hogwarts.'

Alex knew his friend well enough to prompt 'And?'

Harry took a deep breath. 'I said yes.'

Alex's eyebrows shot up madly to the sky. To say he was shocked was an understatement. But then, even Alex was surprised when he heard himself reply, 'Then I'm going with you.'


	6. Chapter 6

I am am proud to say that the end of this chapter is completely mine! I own none of the characters though.

' _We really didn't know what a terrible mistake we were making giving you up, Harry. But I thought of you every single day. I really hope that even if you don't trust us just yet, you'll be able to soon.'_

 _James had cornered Harry outside in the corridor after Harry left._

 _His searching eyes passed over Harry's face, memorizing every detail._

' _I'm glad you chose to come to Hogwarts, Harry. I'm really grateful.'_

 _A genuine smile quirked at James' lips, as he tightened his grasp on his son's shoulder._

 _Harry shrugged the hand off._

' _Don't be. I'm not sure I chose to come because of you.' Harry turned, and walked swiftly down the corridor, never looking back once to catch the stricken look on James' face, or to let James take a glimpse of the conflicting emotions flickering through his face._

Harry sighed. It had been hours since that conversation had taken place, yet bits and pieces of that conversation kept passing through his mind, capturing his thoughts.

' _Harry, you are the Boy-Who-Lived. Even if you were to remain at Lantions, which may well be superior to Hogwarts, yet it is no place to be fighting a war! What with the geographical distance and the-'_

' _-You don't know how sorry we are that we missed so much of your life. Please, forgive us and let us get to know you at least…'_

' _I never wanted to send you away. I thought it would be in your best interests-'_

Harry turned and punched his pillow viciously. Sleep had been eluding him, and these thoughts did nothing to help. If anything, it made him even more confused. Turning back around, he gazed up at the darkened bunk bed above his, where Alex was snoring loudly.

'Why did I choose Hogwarts anyway?' he wondered to himself. Screw the war and his parents. Dumbledore was right about one thing. Lantions _was_ superior to Hogwarts, in every conceivable way.

And his adoptive parents. Harry sat up, pulling a framed photograph from his bedside table. Harry gazed at his eleven year old self, proudly beaming while sandwiched between two adults. One, a brunette, with hair falling past her shoulders, her steady brown eyes gazing laughingly at the camera. The next, a tall grey-headed man, smiling broadly at the camera.

'Dad. Mum.' Harry whispered, even as he traced the outlines of their faces. A vivid recollection hit him.

* * *

 _Flashback:_

 _Harry sobbed freely, burying his face in his mother's arms. Lindsay Keller rubbed her hands over her son's shoulders, trying to soothe him._

 _Harry suddenly lifted his head, the stubborn glint in his eyes flashing dangerously._

' _I want to go back to Britain.' He announced._

 _Lindsay looked down at his determined little face. 'Why?' she enquired gently, trying to cover her shock. 'I thought you liked it here, Harry. And I thought you liked us too.'_

 _Harry scrunched up his face. 'I do.' He agreed. 'But some boy called me a-a- garbage trash boy. He said my parents didn't want me. I don't think you'd want me too.'_

' _Oh Harry,' Lindsay smiled. 'Of course we want you! Even if you do something incredibly naughty in the future, remember this. We chose you. And we'll never choose to let you go.'_

 _Harry sniffled, his tears drying up fast. 'But what about my parents?' he asked in a small voice. 'Everyone said they didn't want me. The kids at the orphanage, the kids here… they're right aren't they?'_

 _Lindsay hesitated, uncertain about how to broach the topic. 'Harry,' she began carefully. 'I don't know what led your parents to give up such a wonderful son as you are. But I do know that you will be very happy here. I'm sure of it. From here on, you do have parents, and they're Russell and me.'_

 _Harry smiled happily, his earlier fears forgotten. Lindsay ran her fingers through his unruly hair comfortably, eyes indecisive. Then, she chose to speak out, not wanting this issue to be a question in the future._

' _Harry, I just want you to know that if somehow in the future, you wish to find your parents, or your parents find you, Russell and I wouldn't object to you meeting with them. It'd be a great thing for you Harry.'_

* * *

That had been years ago. Eons before the thought of even finding his parents, or even the consideration that they were still alive, hit him.

And when it did, it hit him in the form of the Daily Prophet. More accurately, an owl had hit Harry on the head, accidentally dropping a copy of the Daily Prophet while Alex and Harry had been on a Alex-proclaimed 'Sabbatical for Burned Out Students yet Avid Skiers' on the Alps. Alex had immediately clamored to read it; after all, the eccentric Headmaster had banned all forms of communication from the castle. It was extreme, but it was partly the reason as to the school's success. Without the constant letters from parents detailing the world outside, and girls ogling over the newest hottie featured in the magazines subscribed to, one tended to focus intently on work. And that was exactly how Randall had intended it.

His school was one to hone your skills. To have your potential developed. Not one for frivolities.

It was harsh, but the students got used to it. Having no other forms of communications with others except their fellow students. Not being able to return home, until the day they graduated. Instead, parents could only come for one hour a week, if they so wished, to visit. It was tough. But it was what one needed to do to survive.

When Alex had tossed back the newspaper, after ripping out the comics and the section featuring exotic models, Harry had indifferently flipped the pages, not really interested in the world outside. After all, who cared what the latest band was when they didn't even know what they sounded like?

He had halted in shock though, at the write-up on William Potter, in celebration of the 12th anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat. The Dark Lord and everything about William Potter had been covered years ago in History of the Modern World. But, there were no pictures in their History course book. The moving picture of the boy, smiling openly at the reader, and twirling his wand lightly, arrested him. The sight was what Harry was used to looking at everyday in the mirror.

Tearing out the section, Harry quickly perused the article, quickly joined by Alex.

In fact, it was Alex that noticed the tiny line that stated '-Despite having to bear the loss of his brother Harry years ago, Will has-'

That line had stuck with Harry, and he had, over the years obtained discreet information from his sources outside whenever he could. And soon, Harry had more or less figured out that he was Harry Potter, brother of the Boy-Who-Lived.

He had always debated upon one day searching his parents out, after graduation of course. But that day had seemed like an eternity away. Now it seemed he was the one who had been searched out.

He smacked his head in frustration. 'So what if you always wanted to meet your parents, you fool.' He mentally berated himself. 'That doesn't mean you got to uproot yourself all the way across continents … wait Britain's on the same continent… scratch that. That doesn't mean you have to go the whole hog all the way to Hoggywarts!'

He was almost on the verge of getting straight out of bed, and telling them he had changed his mind, but he didn't.

Maybe, despite his arguments, all he really was was a confused little kid that just really wanted to find the damn reason he got abandoned.

Or maybe, it was that voice in his head telling him that Hogwarts would be the key to his future.

* * *

 _Switzerland…_

When Lindsay got the letter from Harry, she sat down first to read it properly. She read through all the reasons for going there, why he was choosing to go Hogwarts, and all his hopes and fears about his real parents.

Russell walked over and read over her shoulder, all the time rubbing a comforting hand on her arm.

When Lindsay had finished reading, she placed the letter gently to the side, before turning in her husband's embrace to face him.

'So what do you think, Russ?' She questioned, tracing her finger across his stubble. 'Harry's leaving us.'

Russell caught his wife's finger with his hand. 'You know we discussed this before, Linds. We agreed that should Harry ever choose to seek out his parents, he would go with our blessing.'

'And he is going with our blessing. It's just that…I hope they treat him right. He really deserves all the best in his life.' Lindsay smiled wanly and pulled away from her husband. 'Now I've got a letter to write.'

Smiling at his wife, Russell Keller returned to his book.

* * *

 _Paris…_

Draco yawned widely, barely even bothering to cover his mouth. Stretching languidly in the doorway, he then gracefully glided over to the table his parents were seated at; ignoring the glances passed his way.

Seating himself at the table, he tucked a stray piece of blond hair behind his ear. Looking up, he noticed his parents staring at him.

'Draco dear,' His mother fussed fretfully, even while buttering a scone. 'Don't tell me you don't feel like eating again. Come, starving yourself is not the way to go. You've got to eat something before you waste away!'

Draco just shrugged, accepting the scone his mother offered.

'Bad night again, son?' his father inquired, his eyes displaying genuine concern.

'You guessed it. I was sleepless until about 5a.m., before finally drifting off to sleep, and being tormented by those dreams.' Draco turned his own tormented eyes upon his father. 'Dad, I don't think I can take much of this anymore. I'm going to crack soon, I really am!'

Lucius hushed his son, whose speech steadily got louder, until the nearby table was looking over interestedly.

'If you want, a dreamless sleep potion could be prepared for you. I could instruct-'

'No. I don't want that.' Draco interrupted hastily, gathering a bemused look from his father, until Lucius' eyes widened in sudden comprehension.

Lucius chuckled, before composing himself.

Draco groaned; certain that his father had caught his drift. He couldn't live with the dreams, and he certainly couldn't live without them.

The dreams were getting … more risqué by the night. It had started innocently enough, with a flash of vivid green eyes, the touch of a warm hand, him running his fingers through his mate's hair... These dreams had him waking up with his heart pounding like a jackhammer, certain that the dream had been for real. His father had assured him that these dreams would stop once his mate had been found. But he hadn't found his mate. Not yet. And the dreams got more and more daring each night, up to the point where he awoke each morning with a desperate hard-on.

Draco was honestly finding it hard to cope with such desire without his mate in sight.

When his seventeenth birthday had occurred six months ago, he had assumed he would find his mate in Hogwarts. After all, his dad had. But he had woken up in that castle feeling cold and lonely. Swearing that his mate was definitely not in Hogwarts, Lucius and Narcissa had then pledged to find their son's mate.

With Dumbledore's understanding, they had globe-trotted for the last six months, often spending a night in a city, and leaving the next, after checking out every single possible school, with all their students.

Draco was popping in and out of Hogwarts, collecting his homework and entering some classes every two weeks, and returning the homework the next. He caught up with private tutoring while traveling, though the Hogwarts teachers were treating him very fairly for this period. Everyone knew, a Veela without his mate was not a productive Veela. Frankly, the whole process was exhausting.

Draco and his family had exhausted all the schools in most of Europe, all of Asia, Australia, and every conceivable place. And with each school ticked off the list, Draco grew more and more despondent, the eager hope in which they had set out on wearing thin.

Narcissa spotted the wistful look on her son's face, and tried to comfort him. 'Come on darling, we've got to get you back to Hogwarts to catch up this week. Just enjoy your last few days in Paris okay? We'll work even harder when we start again.'

Draco nodded, idly stirring his cup of coffee.

* * *

Will adjusted his tie nervously once again. Once Harry had decided to join Hogwarts, the whole family had returned to Britain to make plans. Dumbledore was planning the classes, and his parents were rushing around madly half the time.

Then, they had received the news that Harry's best friend was going to Hogwarts with him, and that Harry himself would transport himself to King's Cross, and no transportation arrangements were required, thank you very much.

That had really dented the bubbles of Lily and James very much, Will could tell. They had been looking very forward to showing Harry around Godric's Hollow, which was rebuilt very much to its original condition before The Incident, and perhaps spending more time to casually get to know him.

Apparently, Harry wasn't going to make this easy on them.

But Will and Harry both knew that Lily and James, both being in the Order of the Phoenix, would use every conceivable excuse to come to the castle. They both were very familiar fixtures in the castle anyway; with their concern for Will back when the world still thought he was the One. They had both been popping in and out of the castle so much Dumbledore gave in in the end, choosing to have two more plates installed at the Head Table, to accommodate them.

Will himself, wasn't very keen on them getting forgiven so easily too. After all, they had hidden the existence of a sibling he knew he had expressed he wanted so badly from him nearly his whole life! And they would have continued doing it too, despite all Lily's defense that they would have welcomed Harry back into their family in due time.

The family was treading on very thin ice now, with them not talking like they used to.

Still, Will knew he would forgive his parents. Eventually. After all, he didn't spend a lifetime with them without knowing they were essentially good people at heart, and not malicious. But he wanted to hold on to his anger a bit longer, and let them wallow in the consequences of their mistake.

Harry was the sibling he should have had for life. And it scared him, to look into his brother's eyes, and see a stranger staring back at him.

Well, he'd be damned if he let his parents get between a friendship between Harry and himself.

* * *

Harry cut through the crowd of photographers easily, the normally persistent paparazzi stepping aside at his elegant yet touch-me-and-die attitude. He easily radiated confidence and grace as he purposefully made his way to the platform, the flashes flashing at his face.

Stepping past the barrier, he entered the platform, stopping awhile to marvel at the happily choo-ing train blowing whistles.

Students were rushing around the platform, some headed purposefully for the train, some playing around with the trolleys, some standing in clusters chatting with their friends, and others saying their tearful farewells to their families.

Harry turned his head away from the last type. In Lantions none of this would have occurred, except maybe on the first day of starting Lantions. Besides, it hurt too much to think of them having families to say goodbye to, and him …

A shock of black hair obscured his vision, and he tilted his head slightly to look at his brother, Will Potter, in the eye.

It irked Harry that Will was at least two inches taller than he was up front. 'No more intimidation factor,' he groaned in his head. That kid looked way shorter from two yards away, and in a chair.

The tension between them was palpable, yet not hostile. On-lookers gaped as they saw the twins face off, standing nose-to-nose. Will opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a boy that stumbled into Harry, causing Harry to crash into his shoulder.

'Shit.' Harry muttered, even as Will helped him back up.

Alex winced. 'Whoops didn't mean to do that.' He paused while his mind went on a whole different tangent. 'But did you see all the photographers out there!? It was crazy! I barely got through unscathed! I don't know how you managed to waltz all the way through that and-'

Harry decided to spare Will from Alex's incessant talking. 'Will, this is Alex. Alex, this is-'

'Twin One. I got it!' Alex shouted cheerfully. 'See, Harry you're Twin Two, since you're younger, and he's Twin One, because he's older. Simple. Oh wait. Kid!' he hollered. 'That's my bloody trolley. And that's my bloody bag! Get back here you bloody-'

Will and Harry watched in bemusement as they watched Alex run down the mischievous third-year. Will let out the first chuckle, and Harry joined in.

Amidst the laughter, Will straightened up. His face was still crumpled up in laughter. 'Harry, I'm Will Potter. Glad to meet you.'

Harry considered him for a second, before grinning. 'Likewise.' He answered. And like that, the two of them walked off into the train to find a carriage, and to pull Alex off from where he was pummeling the third-year.

* * *

 _3 days later…_

Harry had been in Hogwarts for about three days now. On the first day, at the Welcoming Feast, all eyes had turned to the front to witness Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, put the hat on. The last thing Harry saw before the darkness of the inside of the hat enveloped him was 600 students all leaning forward in their chair to take a glimpse at him.

Soon, a voice spoke in his ear.

'So…' it murmured. 'Harry Potter. I see you at last.'

Harry winced at the unfamiliar sound of that last name. when his mother had written, telling him how proud she was, and how she hoped he would make good choices, Harry did not expect Lindsay to request that he don the Potter surname, to 'make things easier'. But he had done as she had asked. It saved him from a lot of questions from curious strangers anyway. Besides, it was just for now. When he returned, and yes he was planning on returning, a Keller through and through he was.

The hat murmured yet again, shaking Harry out of his stupor. 'Boy-Who-Lived. At last you've come to Hogwarts. Now the question is, what house should we put you in? Hufflepuff is definitely out of the question. Loyal, you are. But no, you don't strike me as a Hufflepuff. Gryffindor? That's a possibility. So is Slytherin and Ravenclaw. You're smart, yet not one sided on the book-smarts. You hunger for that recognition, and power is more than within you, but you would not stoop to evil means to get what you desire. Gryffindor … you're brave, yes. Very brave. You wouldn't rush into a fight for mere honour though.'

The hat considered briefly. You're a more perfect balance of all four houses than all I've ever seen, Harry. Well, guess I'd better put you into …'

'GRYFFINDOR!' the Hat bellowed to the Hall, to stamps of approval, vigorous clapping, and squeals of girls in Gryffindor. As Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table, clapping Will on the back, he overheard some girls squeal excitedly 'Oh my gosh! We got Harry Potter! I can't believe it! He is positively fi-ine.'

Leaning back, he gave the girls a wink, leading them to squeal even further. Alex, who came bounding over to congratulate him(Alex had been sorted into Gryffindor before Harry), pouted.

Harry soon realized once you were settled in, there really wasn't much about Hogwarts that was very different from Lantions. People were all generally the same everywhere, and Harry found himself settling into the routine of things. That was excepting the stares that were directed at Harry. He was famous now. At Lantions he was a nobody, besides being the best in the cohort and practically the whole school, he was still a nobody. Now, this was different.

Classes similar to the ones Harry took at Lantions were simple, almost way below his standard. Even below _Alex's_ standard. But Dumbledore had discreetly told Harry that his private lessons would be starting soon. Dumbledore was going to be coaching Harry personally in the arts, and Harry was rather looking forward to it.

Besides, it wasn't so much a chore to be in the classes. The professors were particularly entertaining, if a little nuts, while Harry had more than settled the psychopath of Severus Snape.

 _Flashback:_

 _Snape glided around the room, his robes swishing softly at his feet. Harry eyed him interestedly,_

 _Will had many a thing to say about this particular professor. In fact, after he had decided to give Will a chance at the platform, he had grown to like Will immensely. For his easy charm and honest ways that were very much disarming. After a few days, Harry had grown to feel as if meeting the brother he never knew he had was indeed something to be grateful for._

 _Will led Alex and Harry around the classes and the castle, acting as a tour guide of sorts, and rating teachers._

 _He had whispered to both of them, 'Watch out for this grumpy old bat. He never liked me. Reckon it was because of some old rivalry between him and my dad. Anyway, he's bound to dislike you too, since you look pretty much the same as Dad too, minus the eyes.'_

 _Harry had winced slightly at being compared to his father, but only Alex managed to notice._

' _You!' Snape suddenly snapped. 'Harry Potter. The newest addition. Let's see what your pathetic years in education have taught you so far.'_

 _He glided around all the tables, stopping at Harry's desk. 'Mister Potter.' He murmured silkily. 'What do you add to a bubbling Casinovas potion?'_

 _Harry evenly stared back. 'Professor Snape.' He stated, with no inflection at all. 'You would add a pint of a komodo dragon's blood, along with a claw from its left foot. Then stir in a clockwise direction, until the potion turns green.'_

 _Snape was shocked, although he tried valiantly to hide it. 'And what is the purpose of a Valiarium potion?'_

' _A Valarium potion is used to induce feelings of courage in a person. When the user imbibes the potion, the effect is immediate, and depending on the strength of the potion, which depends on the intensity of the Moonflower that is added during the 12th stage, the user will be able to experience confidence, intense enough to lead him into a Giant's cave.'_

' _I am impressed Mister Potter.' Snape answered. 'You've obviously been more useful in your life than your brother has been in his. Ten points to Gryffindor.'_

 _(Alex later remarked that it was highly impressive of Snape to be able to compliment yet insult a person at the same time and not have someone throw an egg at his face.)_

Overall, life was good.

It was a Monday morning that found Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table eating his breakfast surrounded by Alex, Will, and his two friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, when he overheard some giggly Hufflepuff's gossip.

'Who's Draco Malfoy?' he enquired, leaning over Alex to ask Will.

'Huh what?' Will stared up belligerently, his mouth full of cereal.

'Draco Malfoy.' Harry repeated patiently. 'Some Hufflepuff said he'd be coming back later this day. Why's he only coming to school so late?'

Before Will could reply, Ron butted in. 'He's a ferret, he is. Been totally sarcastic and he really loves to torture us, back from when we were in first year.'

Hermione scolded Ron. 'Ron! That's not a very nice thing to say. Malfoy's perfectly nice. Just that his high and mighty upperclass ways may have rubbed you the wrong way. Anyway, he's been fine this year, at least to you.'

Ron snorted. 'Yeah, that's because he's gone half the time! Traipsing around the world searching for his mate.'

Hermione frowned. 'It's pretty sad actually. I feel sorry for him, I do. Must be pretty hard for a Veela to have to search for their mate for six months.' She then jerked herself out of her haze. 'Anyway, he's going through a tough time right now, so lay off him.' She warned severely.

Ron only grunted in reply, as he stuffed his mouth with more food.

Harry nodded thoughtfully as he absorbed all this information. 'Oh well.' He shrugged. 'It doesn't involve me.'

* * *

Alex flopped onto the bed in their dorm, gazing balefully at Harry. Harry finally lifted his eyes off his book. 'What?' he asked, even though he knew that look in Alex's eyes meant they would be up to no good soon.

'Harry!' Alex whined. 'Can we explore the castle?'

Harry sighed. 'We already did, Alex. Will showed us the whole castle, it's done!'

Alex pouted. 'No he didn't' Alex persisted. 'He's like, next in line to be the Head Prefect, do you think he'd show us all the cool but scandalous places? Come on! I'm sure we passed a dark corridor somewhere that leads to someplace cool!'

When Harry kept silent Alex huffed, before dragging the yelping Harry out of the Common Room.


	7. Chapter 7

I own no characters. Enjoy!

Harry was thoroughly irritated. Firstly, Alex had led him on a wild goose chase for the mystical 'dark corridor' for what seemed like hours. Actually, it was. By the time they had finally stumbled into a corridor they vaguely recognized, it was already two hours past when dinner ended.

And to make it even worse, Harry _still_ had not eaten his dinner.

Not that that mattered to Alex. After they had split up at a fork, to explore the roads down the path (which according to Alex made for a more efficient journey), Harry had waited at the fork for about half an hour until Alex returned.

Turned out he had stumbled into the kitchen, and was now comfortably burping after a sound meal.

Needless to say, Alex had already lost his sense of direction more than once, and the kitchen was once again lost.

Now all Harry was was irritated, grumpy, and hungry.

* * *

 **Draco:**

Draco had stepped into the castle just slightly before dinner, fully intent on getting these two weeks over with, so he could get on with the search. He stepped into the castle, his footstep echoing loudly against he stones.

It was then that it hit him. That smell was all over. It was just washing over him, in light, rhythmic patterns. Draco was almost bowled over by the intensity of the feelings he was feeling. Shock, relief, joy...it all combined within in.

His mate was here. Draco had never felt anything like this before. And he was going to find him. He needed to. After all these months...

Two hours later, Draco still felt the need boiling beneath his skin, enough to irritate him and leave him in a foul mood all night. Ever since he entered the castle and felt that gorgeous scent swirl around him, he knew he wouldn't get any more sleep, not until he found his mate.

But for some reason, his mate wasn't in the Hall with everyone during dinner, which irked him. He wanted desperately to run around the castle, looking in every nook and cranny, however Draco had to keep up appearances, which was why he had sat throughout the whole dinner, shooting poisonous glares at everyone who was not his mate.

The faces hadn't changed much since he had left, he noticed. Only the Year Ones looked, as all Year Ones did, with that scared look on their faces, not fully wiped off by experience yet. A slight grimace passed over his lips again. Yet, without him realising, many admiring glances were drawn from around the room. Draco Malfoy, however rude and unattainable he always was, always managed to steal the girls' hearts, and attention, even before he received his Inheritance. And it was precisely when he was at the height of his arrogant Malfoy self that he was at his most desirable.

Draco abruptly pushed back his chair. He couldn't take this any more. The scent of his mate all around, yet with him nowhere to be seen… he would retreat back to his dorm. There, at least there wouldn't be the constant tantalizing smell, mingling in the air, just enticing him to draw nearer to an invisible goal. With a growl, he pushed his way out of the Hall, shoving aside some lower years as he did so.

Twinkling blue eyes watched his dramatic exit with a smile.

'Do you think Malfoy's all right Sir?' Lily asked, staring at the door slamming shut. 'He seems a bit…out of sorts to me.'

Dumbledore smiled, lifting a forkful of pie to his mouth. 'Oh he's more than alright, Lily dear.'

'If you say so...' Lily murmured, returning to her meal.

* * *

Three hours later, Draco still hadn't lost that itchy feeling just under his skin. He had probably paced his carpet about a thousand times, and finally Blaise, glancing up from his PlayWitch magazine, muttered 'Oh hell Draco. Why don't you just get out there with your bloodhound nose and at least smell out which house your mate is in, instead of treading the carpet my mother bought me to death?'

Draco scowled. 'I'm not a bloodhound, Zambini.' The reply to his petulant answer was a carelessly tossed pillow, which Draco ducked easily. 'Though your idea does have merit…' Draco mused. 'I shall look around the castle a bit. Heaven forbid I actually find my mate's in Hufflepuff though.' With a shudder, Draco tossed his cloak over his shoulders, and left the dorm.

Blaise looked at the departing figure of Draco. 'Oh Draco, you're hopeless.' He laughed, and returned to his magazine with a flick of his wrist.

* * *

Harry could feel his stomach growling yet again. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to skip dinner, even if it did mean not seeing his parents again. (One of the reasons he actually agreed to go on that fool's mission with Alex.) Every time he saw them, this painful twinge would touch his heart, and conflicting feelings would always be battling for dominance in his mind. Harry didn't like feeling confused, he never did. So when situations like these presented itself, Harry preferred to retreat, and think through his feelings carefully.

Even if he was hungry now, he could wait until breakfast, he thought, gritting his teeth, and staring morosely into the fire.

'Oh screw it, Harry.' his best friend growled from the opposite couch. 'Will you stop being such a prat and get some food from the kitchens before your stomach deafens me? Or would you rather i do it for you?'

'We're not allowed out after curfew, Alex.' Harry replied calmly, still trying to be curt, even as his stomach rumbled appreciatively at the suggestion.

'Like that ever stopped you.'Alex snorted. 'What about that time you managed to land us both into the freezing cold lake while we were still in Lantions just because you wanted to see mermaids? It was too cold for the hot mermaids to be out anyway!'

It said something that Harry didn't even bother to question the intelligence of that remark. He did, however, take his advice, and decided to head on towards the kitchen.

* * *

Harry hummed a slight tune as he walked down the dim corridors. The air was stained only a dusky glow by the faintly burning lights, yet Harry navigated the corridors easily. His green eyes pierced the darkness like those of a cat, as he strode down the hallway, his light footsteps barely making a sound on the stones. As he reached the end of the hallway, the relative peace was broken by faint sound. Harry stopped, cocking his head to determine the whereabouts. It sounded like footsteps, headed right at him.

It was getting louder, and louder, and Harry felt the faint pulse of anticipation towards who he would meet. Fear never occurred to him. After all, this was Hogwarts. Still, Harry kept calm and slightly tensed, able to make a defense should the person turn out to be hostile, or even worse, Snape.

He did wish that the hallway was more brightly lit, however. Dumbledore's idea of dimming the lights did make sense as for preventing the late night jaunts of students. With the many encounters of the Bloody Baron after a particularly creepy hallway, one tended to stick to one's dorm in relative safety.

He had absolutely no time to react, as the person suddenly swung around the corner faster than he expected, and Harry felt himself being pushed up the wall. He braced himself for his head banging against the hard wall, yet he felt a hand swiftly tangle into his head, while another supported his neck. His back slammed into the cold corridor's walls with a dull thud, yet Harry barely had time to voice his discomfort before a hot mouth closed over his, effectively silencing his incoming protests.

Harry gasped in surprise, and quickly a tongue slipped into his mouth. The hard pressure of their lips pressed together was further emphasized when he felt a long, angular body pressing him into the wall. The fact that the body was obviously a male didn't bother him as much as he thought it would have, though, it felt strangely right, to have himself trapped between this stranger and the wall. The stranger was pretty tall, Harry could tell, about maybe a head taller than him? The stranger was leaning down to be around his height, even as Harry felt himself arching up into the kiss.

He quickly stopped thinking, and lost himself in the heated kiss. Harry felt his fingers fly up quickly to the other's hair, tangling his hands in its downy softness. He himself felt his hair being raked through by the other, even as he was pulled closer, deeper into the kiss. Losing his sense of self, Harry could only gasp and moan in barely concealed pleasure as the kiss changed from a long, passionate one to a series of fast, fiery, touches on his lips, enticing him to respond with similar passion.

As Harry broke apart for breath, he found himself staring into a pair of luminous, silver orbs. Like mercury, Harry, thought dizzily. He could feel himself getting sucked under its power, and he felt strangely dizzy. His eyes were the only thing he could discern in the stranger though. He assumed it was the same way around too. After all, dim light was just not the way to go.

A hand cupped his chin, and Harry heard a throaty voice breath into his ear. 'I finally found you.' The relief contained in that statement was quickly lost as the stranger continued to kiss down Harry's ear, all the way down to his neck.

Harry felt his heart race. His mind was clouded, and he could barely think through a haze of thoughts. His senses were constantly being attacked, by the smooth sweetness of the stranger's lips touching him, the musky scent emanating from his body, and the feeling of countless other sensations. He could only moan his pleasure, as the stranger continued his exploration of Harry's body, his hands dipping to his chest, waist, butt, and finally wrapping themselves securely around his waist, and at the same time pulling Harry even closer, if that was even possible.

At the same time, Harry's hands were also roaming about the stranger's hard planes of his body. In the end, Harry settled for clasping his hands around the stranger's neck, and focussed on the kisses.

The stranger harshly broke away from the kiss, and panting, stood gazing down at Harry. 'What's your name?' he asked hoarsely, his hands wandering brazenly about harry's upper half. Harry, lost in sensations could only moan unintelligibly, his dark lashes fluttering wildly above eyes of a clouded green.

The stranger's mercury eyes darkened, and he too let out a groan. Harry opened his eyes, and watched drunkenly as he saw the stranger's hands fall to his breast pocket and trace out his Gryffindor emblazon on the front of his cloak. The stranger's hair fell to the front, obscuring his eyes that was currently squinting at Harry's cloak, and Harry felt a crazy urge to sweep those bangs away. Before he could lift his hand though, the stranger lifted his eyes. 'Gryffindor?' he inquired.

Harry could only nod. Gaining back a semblance of his self though, he murmured 'You?' The husky tone to his voice made Harry wonder exactly how did he sound when he saw the mercury eyes darken yet again.

'I'm in Slytherin.' The stranger muttered, capturing his lips again. When he finally stopped, he asked, with a slight tinge of anxiety in his voice. 'Does it matter to you?'

Harry recovered yet again. 'I don't judge by prejudices.' He said, and was rewarded by yet another kiss.

Suddenly the rough thud of incoming footsteps broke the trance Harry was in. 'Miss Norris!' Harry heard the janitor call out. 'Where are yo-ou?'

Harry quickly disentangled himself from the stranger's arms, the haze in his mind quickly dissipating in the face of incoming trouble. How long had he been here, he frantically thought, while trying to adjust his clothes and tie. Shit, Alex would be wondering what i've been up to!

Looking up, he saw the stranger also following his lead, and straightening his clothes while he looked around the corner.

'I've got to go now.' Harry quickly reached up to place a kiss on the stranger's cheek before he started jogging down the corridor.

'Wait!' came the hissed reply, purposely brought low to avoid early detection. Harry turned around hurriedly. The stranger opened his mouth to say something, yet apparently reconsidered. He flashed a smile, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. 'I'll look for you tomorrow.' Came the promise.

Harry nodded, and turning, he ran down the corridor again, disappearing after turning the corner.

Draco smiled, and he himself looked around the corner again, before making his way to his destination.

* * *

Harry, having run the whole way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, immediately sank into an armchair, breathing out heavily.

Alex, still in the same position which Harry had left him, raised an eyebrow. 'So, who'd you snog?' he inquired casually.

Harry turned red. 'I didn't! - How'd, what'd, you...you-'

'Oh please.' Alex rolled his eyes. 'You've been my best friend for almost a decade. I know everything you do!' When Harry appeared to take him at his word, Alex rolled his eyes again. Ticking off his fingers, he added. 'Plus, your collar is all messed up and your flush is NOT all because of your run back. And furthermore, your stomach's still growling.'

Leaning back with a smirk, Alex stared at Harry, who tried vainly to control his blush. 'So who's the lucky lady?'

Harry coughed uncomfortably. 'See the thing is...' he began uncomfortably. 'It's a guy.' At Alex's immediate attention, Harry continued on hurriedly. 'And...I don't quite know who he is.'

Alex scooted the chair closer to Harry's. 'Well go on!' he urged! 'Tell me all the details! Since i left Mirabelle in Lantions for you you better have a life for me to lead vicarously through you! Come on! Guy, girl, same old boozoo. Give me details you ponce!'

* * *

Draco walked down the hallways with an uncharacteristic smile on his face. Taking a neat turn to the west side of the castle, he swiftly made his way to a place where few in Hogwarts knew of - the Apparation Room.

Reaching his destination, he quickly whispered a word, and soon Draco Malfoy landed in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor. He had barely arranged his robes before his parents rounded into the room, alerted by probably the numerous charms placed about the house.

Lucius frowned. 'You want to leave Hogwarts so soon?' he inquired.

'Not that that's a problem!' his wife quickly amended. 'Our bags could be packed within this week, we haven't tried Northern Europe's academies yet...'

Draco burst in. 'Father!' Lucius fell silent, just noticing the look in his son's eyes, leading him to hope, just for a second...that-

'Mother!' Draco also exclaimed, welcoming his mother into the bright glow of his joy. 'I found him! After all this time, i found him here of all places. Isn't this wonderful?'

Lucius' thoughts were proved right. Narcissa and he both ran, in unison, to infold their son in a threeway embrace. 'Oh Draco.' Narcissa murmured, close to tears. After all this time, it certainly proved worthwhile, didn't it?'

Draco nodded, his head resting on his father's chest. 'Yes it did.' came the muffled reply.

Lucius leaned out of the threeway hug, the voice of the medium, which had never left his thoughts since the search, occurring to him. 'And what house does he belong to, son?'

Draco put a hand on his father's shoulder. 'Gryffindor, dad.'

Lucius chuckled, the deep baritone emanating from deep within. So, the medium did prove true. 'As we always knew it would be, Drake.' Laughing affectionately, they embraced yet again.

hehe... I'm tired. Don't judge me.


	8. Chapter 8

I own no characters Enjoy!

A persistent scratching noise woke him up. It seemed like he'd been half-asleep for ages, seeing flashes of mercury eyes, hearing the faint whispers of a hoarse voice murmuring into his ears, but he stayed in that blissful half conscious state, not willing to face the world yet. But that scratching noise was just so…annoying! Finally, Harry groaned, and flung his hand out in the direction of the irritant.

"What?" came the polite reply, in response to his indecipherable mumble.

"What the heck are you doing?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily, as he lifted his head out of his pillow. He leaned over, squinting at the mess that was currently Alex's bed.

Alex's bed was covered with inkpots, quills, and about a dozen different parchments stuffed into envelopes. A few inkblots had already stained the covers full of dirty smears. Ew. And there, at the foot of the bed, crouched over all that mess, was the perpetuator himself, Alex, painstakingly inking a letter with that annoying scratch.

"Writing a letter to Mirabelle." Alex huffed, his eyes trained on the parchment where we laboriously scrawled his words. "Long distance relationships are hard to maintain, you know. Well, you technically wouldn't know, since you've never had one. But I'll have you know I'm expending a lot of effort here in keeping the romance alive."

"Oh." Harry blinked. "But why'd you need so much parchment for?"

"Oh, it's not just Mirabelle I'm writing to. This," Alex grinned, brandishing a particular ink-smeared parchment, "is for Theodore, the other is for Edward…"

"Wait." Harry stopped him from brandishing even more of those papers in his face. "I'm not too bright in the mornings, but why?"

Alex gave him a look. "Well, obviously, while I'm reminding Mirabelle of my love so true, I've also got to keep the other guys back in Lantions in line, don't I? I'm just helpfully reminding them that I know some really nasty curses that they wouldn't want to see if they try to steal Mirabelle while I'm here. I even drew illustrations! Look!"

Harry stared bemusedly at the little sketches of stickmen with tentacles poking out of the front of their pants.

"Oh, that is _sick_. It's a good thing I never got on your bad side, Hartmann."

"Damn straight that's right, Keller." Alex grinned. "I'm one hell of a nightmare."

Stretching, Harry got out of bed and padded his way to the bathroom, playfully pushing Alex off the bed with a yelp on the way.

Stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the shower. As the hot water rained down his back, he leaned his head against the wall. Dammit, even now the images from his dream were still playing behind his lids.

Scrubbing himself furiously, trying to rid himself of the images, he dimly heard Alex hollering behind the door.

"Harry! You're going to be late for breakfast! Hurry up! I'm going to head to the Owlery to post my letters before class, alright, so don't wait up for me!"

Harry heard the door slam behind his roommate, and toweling off, pushed himself to rush. Potions was first period, and Snape did _not_ tolerate latecomers.

* * *

Stumbling out of the portrait, Harry cursed. The Common Room was already empty of inhabitants, and Harry bet they'd already have finished breakfast, and were on their way to First Period already. "Curse these ties." he thought. "We never had to wear any of these in Lantions. How the heck do I make the knotted part -"

"Hello." A smooth, mild voice interrupted his thoughts.

Harry snapped his head upwards immediately, his hands remaining frozen still attempting to knot his tie. He recognized that voice, oh yes he did.

"Seems like you're a little late for class." That voice murmured.

That voice happened to belong to the most incredibly good-looking person Harry had ever seen. Blonde hair fell across his face naturally, framing a strong, masculine, face bearing those haunting mercury eyes Harry remembered. He was just as tall as Harry recalled, looming over him in the darkness. Here, in the brightly-lit passageway, he didn't quite look as imposing, though he still towered over Harry's frame by at least a few inches. But he was still bloody gorgeous.

"What are you doing here?" Harry blurted out. _Dumbass,_ Harry berated himself inwardly. _You sound so rude!_

But if nothing, a lopsided smile quirked at the stranger's lips.

"I said I'd look for you, didn't I?"

"Oh." Harry found himself at a loss for words. Leaning against the wall too, mirroring the angel's stance, Harry fought to keep a blush from rising onto his face. A safe distance, he decided. He had to maintain a safe distance so he could collect his thoughts properly.

"We didn't get to introduce ourselves properly last night. My name's Draco Malfoy."

That name twitched at the corners of Harry's mind, even as he struggled in vain to keep from falling into those mesmerizing eyes that now stared at him expectantly. Where had he heard that name…?

"Harry Kell- …Potter." Harry replied, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. The floor was the best place for them, he decided. Looking at the floor, he wouldn't be losing his train of thought in _those_ eyes again.

Apparently, Draco Malfoy didn't like those eyes away from him. Harry heard a low rumble of discontent, before feeling, rather than hearing, Draco moving closer to him, close enough to touch.

A hand lifted his chin, so Harry was staring up into Draco Malfoy's face again. Shit. That hand was doing crazy things to his heartbeat.

He smiled, and Harry's world made a little wobble on its axis.

"I did think you looked strikingly like your brother. Your eyes are better to look at though." Draco mused, his thumb lightly caressing his jaw line.

Harry swallowed. Even that sounded excessively loud in the quiet hallway.

The hand slipped to his collarbone, lightly tracing the expanse of skin exposed behind his rumpled tie. Harry's heart rate quickened.

"Your tie's a mess. Let me fix that." Draco laughed.

The tension-charged air seemed to relax a bit. Good. Harry found it easier to breathe again.

"Yeah, we didn't wear ties at my old school."

Draco let out a small chuckle. "Obviously." He replied, a smile still on his face.

He bent his head, concentrating on loosening the awful knot that Harry had managed to fashion. Straightening the tie out, he quickly tied it properly.

As Draco focused on the tie, Harry stared at his absorbed face with slight panic. What was it about this boy that made him act like a hormonal teenager with his first crush? Not that he wasn't technically one… but he barely knew this Draco Malfoy!

The hands had finished tying his tie, but the head didn't lift. Instead, the hands drifted southwards, running lightly past his chest. Harry took in a deep breath in surprise. Curling around his waist, the hands pulled Harry closer to Draco Malfoy until he was neatly pressed against his chest.

Then, Draco did a strange thing.

With Harry pressed up against him, Draco bent his head even further, burying his face in Harry's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he sighed in obvious contentment. "Mmmm. You smell good."

Harry was certain Draco could feel his rapidly accelerating heartbeat drumming against his cheek.

"I'm late for class." Harry managed to blurt out, before things got further than they really should. With him in his state of mind right now, he wouldn't be surprised if he jumped the boy standing in front of him right now … or if Draco jumped him.

Draco casually lifted his head out of Harry's shoulder, and, without losing his possessive hold on the smaller boy, lifted his left hand, glancing at his watch.

"Well, you're late as it is, so why don't you come for a walk with me?"

"You mean, ditch class?" Harry asked, a tinge of incredulity entering his voice.

"Yeah." Draco Malfoy lifted the corner of his lip into that half smile that made Harry's world go spinning away again. "I'd like to get to know you better."

" _You really shouldn't."_ Harry tried to convince himself, staring into those amazing eyes. " _No, no. This would not be a good idea at all. Alex is probably wondering where you are and you obviously can't trust your feelings around him not to do anything really embarrassing, so…Just say no,_ Keller!"

* * *

Two hours later, Alex looked out of the window from a very boring History of Magic lesson to see two heads, the first ebony black, the other a brilliant blonde, sitting in the middle of the Quidditch field. The faint sound of their laughter drifted across the pitch to his sharp ears.

"Well of all things." Alex perked up. "That Harry can be downright sneaky about things when he wants to be."

* * *

Harry fell apart with laughter again, and Draco chuckled with amusement, even as he admired the highlights of auburn Harry's hair threw out when in sunlight.

"No way!" Harry managed to get out in between his laughter. "Snape couldn't have done that!"

Draco smiled. "I assure you, my godfather can be quite the opposite when he's out of school."

Harry managed to control his laughter.

"Still hard to believe that Snape…" Harry stopped thinking about Snape doing _that_ , before his mind wandered off to the point of no return again.

"Let's talk about something else." Draco suggested. "I've been telling you about my life all morning. What about you? What's the story?"

"What story?" Harry answered. The change was immediate. His face closed up, and the laughter disappeared from his eyes.

Draco eyed him carefully, noting the change.

"If you'd rather not tell me, that's fine." He started, cautiously. "I was just curious as to whether there was any truth behind the stories about you in the newspapers."

Harry bit his lip, looking down at the blade of grass that he was now worrying, twisting it round and round his finger until it was close to breaking. His finger was turning red, too, the blood unable to escape from the vice-like grip. Strange. It didn't hurt.

A hand reached out, catching his fingers.

Startled, he let the blade go to look into Draco's intense face.

"It's fine if you can't talk about it now." Draco emphasized. "I'm not pushing you to talk about it."

"No…" Harry paused, trying to find the correct words to express his thoughts. "No, it doesn't mean that much. Probably won't be quite as interesting as you think it is though. The Potters left me at St. James, a few years later I was adopted, ended up at Lantions, they found me, and I came here. End of story. Whatever the magazines wrote about me is about there, I suppose."

Harry could feel Draco's eyes studying his face even as he resolutely kept his eyes to the ground.

"Okay." Draco replied carefully. "You'll tell me when you're ready."

Harry nodded, his face looking serene, though inwardly he wondered, how this boy managed to break through all his self-erected barriers, and understand what he truly felt, in such a short period of time.

Looking up to meet his eyes again, Harry smiled. "It's only been a morning," he mused. "But I feel like I've known you... well, as long as I've known Alex."

Draco quirked an eyebrow.

"No discomfort here." Harry elaborated, using his hands to gesture it to mean both of them.

Draco smiled, heartbreakingly. "Me too. Though I do believe I've known you, or at least about you, longer than you have me."

Now it was Harry's time to be confused, but Draco avoided any questions, instead hauling Harry up to his feet.

It was a strange interlude, Harry realized. Having jumped headfirst into a physical relationship the first time they met, they were now starting over, feeling their way carefully from the start.

"Come on," he laughed lightly. "They're about to start flying lessons here, and I don't think you'd want to miss lunch too, after missing out on breakfast."

And so, the unlikely twosome ran, laughing, for cover beneath the dive-bombing First Years.

* * *

"Excuse me, um, Harry?"

A tentative voice came to Harry's ear.

He looked away from Draco's dark eyes to look still slightly dreamily into the First Year's terrified face. And no wonder, as Draco Malfoy was currently shooting the First Year a dark look for disturbing them.

"Yes?" Harry inquired.

"Professor…Professor Dumbledore wants to meet you in his office." The First Year shrank back away from the intimidating seniors.

"Oh okay sure." Harry smiled. The First Year quickly turned to flee.

Harry who was currently entrapped in between the hard wall and Draco, pushed Draco's chest lightly. "Hey, let me out."

Draco moved away from the wall with a groan, letting Harry go. Leaning over to place a peck on Harry's cheek, he murmured, the sound coming very close to _extremely_ sexy to Harry's mind, "Have fun. I'll be heading to the library to do homework, if you want to find me later."

* * *

Harry moved past the gargoyle, and ascended the stairs slowly, wondering whether Dumbledore would be discussing the independent lessons now.

"Ah, Harry, there you are." Dumbledore smiled beatifically, gesturing for Harry to sit in the seat before his table. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you," Harry murmured, trying to be polite, even as he tried to repress the smile that was threatening to emerge, after recalling Draco poisonously implying there was _something_ Dumbledore laced the sweets with to make both him and his visitors positively barmy.

"Hmmm. Well Harry, as I suppose you've already guessed, you're here so we could discuss the matter about the independent lessons I'm about to coach you in. There's no doubt, Lantions has indeed admirably taught you well, as I've heard from your many teachers, but they tend to be leaning towards the academic side. Their method of teaching may well be superior and better for the talented students there, but they haven't been teaching their students to fight a war, Harry. We'd be focusing on the more…practicable side here."

"Meaning?"

"Harry, we have to focus on winning the war soon. What with your story splashed all over the papers, I'm sure Voldemort will waste no time attempting to challenge you, and try to dissipate the feeling of hope that you've brought to the magical community."

Dumbledore paused, sucking on his sweet thoughtfully.

"So, I plan to spend half of the independent study time with you investigating particularly the cause and how we can effectively utilize your … resistance to the Dark Lord. That blue light that came from you is extremely intriguing."

Dumbledore paused again, eyeing Harry with speculative eyes. Harry scowled inwardly, though meeting Dumbledore's eyes with a calm exterior.

"After we determine how you can harness your powers to battle effectively against Voldemort, we'll progress onto the magic of the 5th century. Obscure magic, but it was used extremely viciously by the ancient Chinese warlocks during the Warring States Period, which closely resembles the times we're going through now."

"The Warring States Period?" Harry questioned. "But what use will this brand of magic bring to the war, especially compared to our more advanced techniques now?"

"It also happens to be the period of magic which Voldemort has no knowledge of, Harry, being that there are only few written records of that time, none of which have entered his possession. That will give us an advantage entering the war, if we use spells the enemy is not familiar with. Though the magic and technique in itself may be raw, we'll be adapting and refining the magic to suit the times and our purposes."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, and Dumbledore proceeded.

"The next half will be conducted strictly on an experimental basis. You'll practice dueling with me, using the new skills and spells that you would have been taught in the first half, to test the effectiveness in real-life. Does that sound acceptable to you?"

"That sounds fine. I do have a question though."

Dumbledore beamed, leaning back in his chair to regard Harry fondly, almost like a grandfather would his favorite grandson.

"Yes, do ask away."

"What is it, particularly, that makes you believe I am able to defeat Voldemort? I know all about the prophecy that was made regarding me from Professor Trelawny, and I know that my … vanquishing of Voldemort's physical form when I was a babe seems to prove me to be the Saviour. However, prophecies in themselves may be misinterpreted…"

Harry ignored Dumbledore' slight wince, as Dumbledore recalled the words of the medium that he had failed to heed.

"-And there is no actual proof that prophecies are unalterable visions of the future. The future may change, circumstances may change, and in fact they may have changed already …"

Harry leaned back now, finished, and wondering what Dumbledore's reaction to his unsubtle attack on the basis of his faith in Harry would be.

"Raised by the academic school of thought, I know it may seem hard for you to accept projections of the future, and the art of divination and astrology, do indeed have some merit. I know your Headmaster, Randall, may have you inclined to dismiss prophecies as hocus-pocus-"

Harry smiled as he recalled his previous Head of Lantions and his vehement disdain of all subjects regarding the wishy-washy art of foretelling the future.

"-But I think it's time to come clean with you, Harry. There was more than one prophecy made concerning you."

Harry's eyes turned, suddenly blazing, onto the Headmaster.

"More cover-ups again?" He hissed derisively, leaping up from his seat.

"Harry, Harry." Dumbledore placed both hands palm-up to Harry, to signify that Harry had to calm down.

Harry sat back down, though his eyes still smoldered angrily at the Headmaster.

"Nobody else knows about it save me, not even your parents." At this Harry imperceptibly relaxed.

"Who made the prophecy?" Harry inquired.

"The centaurs. This wasn't a vision per say, though. They simply viewed the patterns of the stars, and their positions in relation to our world, and predicted that a saviour would come to the wizarding world."

"Astrology. That's interesting." Harry mused aloud. "Is that all?"

Dumbledore now turned serious.

"Much more was said, and implied, in the contents, than what I have told you so far, but be patient Harry. I've had many years to think the prophecy through, throwing the idea around in my mind, but I still can't quite comprehend the true essence of the centaur's prophecy, and what it will mean for the wizarding world. But give me time, Harry. Once I have understood the prophecy, I will inform you."

Harry had already stood up, making his way to the door.

"Harry?" Dumbledore questioned.

Harry turned, eyes distracted. "I have a lot to think about, and I'd prefer to think about it alone."

"Yes, do go ahead my dear boy," Dumbledore quickly assured him. "I know it's a lot to take in, and I do hope you would be more … settled before we discussed this further. The independent lessons will start next week; every day after you've finished your classes, you are to report to me."

Harry had already half tuned out Dumbledore's words, his mind considering what had been revealed. The next question though, caught his full attention.

"I hope you had fun with Mr. Malfoy today?"

Harry turned to stare at Dumbledore and that dratted twinkle in his eyes, realizing only just then that the window in the Headmaster's office had an excellent view of the Quidditch pitch.

Shit.

"It was very nice, Sir. Inter-house bonding and all, you know. Just being friendly. " Harry tripped over his words, trying to fight the rising embarrassment with dignity.

"Don't worry, Harry." Dumbledore beamed, looking very much like a kid with a juicy secret to spill. "I won't tell Professor Snape you missed his class for a day in the sun. Youth must have its fling, eh?"

"Um, that's right Sir."

Harry, mortified, began backing away to the door.

"Have a nice day, Sir."

* * *

Alex tackled Harry as soon as he entered the Gryffindor Common Room, rolling them both onto one of the couches in front of the fire.

"Spill it, you ponce!" Alex demanded, sitting astride Harry on the couch. He pinned him down on the couch; ignoring Harry's attempt to push him off.

"What are you talking about?" Harry blinked up at Alex, his eyes showing his confusion.

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about." Alex smirked. "What were you doing on the pitch with that blonde dude?"

Harry flushed all the way to the roots of his hair.

"Oh my - ... You saw us too?" A hysterical note crept into his voice.

Will flopped down onto the chair nearest their couch.

"Everyone saw you and Draco Malfoy, Harry." Will remarked, with a smile quirking at his lips. "I don't know about other classes, but you had our whole History of Magic class riveted."

Harry groaned.

"Practically plastered to the window." Will let out a huge chuckle, clearly amused by Harry's mortification.

"What?" Harry practically whispered in horror.

"Got your friend to blame for that." Will jerked his head in Alex's direction, purposely ignoring Alex's frantic gestures not to. His eyes were laughing, his face open, yes, Will Potter was definitely enjoying this moment. Harry, despite his embarrassment, still managed to notice it. Yes, he could indeed get to like his brother very much.

"What?" Harry repeated, this time the whisper a menacing hiss directed in Alex's direction.

"Screw you, Potter!" Alex whined, tossing a pillow at Will, which Will easily ducked. "I didn't even do – "

"What did he do?" Harry asked, this time to Will.

Will grinned, displaying the dimple in his left cheek.

"Only about stood up when everyone was halfway to sleep to scream," Here Will furrowed his brow, trying to remember the exact words. "'Get it on; if you'd been on a rugby field you'd have scored a try already!' Was that right?" Will laughed, as Harry turned murderous eyes onto his best friend.

Alex let out a decidedly girly squeak before hitting the floor, running up to the dormitory for shelter.

Harry growled, springing up and yelling "Alex, you're going to pay for that!"

Alex's face reappeared behind the banister. He stuck out his tongue, before slamming the door shut behind him.

"Childish bugger." Harry muttered. He was about to get up to haul Alex to justice, but thought better of it when he looked around, noticing the Gryffindor's curious faces. It wasn't ordinary 'what-are-they-making-such-a-racket-about' faces, but rather 'wonder-what-Will's-brother-was-doing-on-the-pitch-with-a-Slytherin" faces. Crap.

Harry sunk down lower on the couch, groaning.

"Hey, Harry?" his brother's voice startled him from his self-induced humiliation. Harry looked up. Will hadn't started a conversation with him, ever.

"You were really with Draco Malfoy, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Harry muttered, instantly wary.

"It's not that I disapprove, or have any right to," Will was quick to say. "I mean, you're free to do whatever you want to do. Malfoy's not a bad person, despite what Ron might think, and even though I don't know him personally, I don't believe he could ever be deliberately malicious, despite the reputation of his House."

Will grimaced.

"That's … good to hear." Harry cautiously stated. It was good to hear that his first impression of Will was astute; Will was both perceptive and fair. He was also annoyingly aware of the Gryffindors milling around the room trying to discreetly listen to their conversation.

He looked at Will, and realized that there was more to this conversation.

"But…?"

Will turned red, confirming his suspicion that there was a big fat 'But' attached to Will's talk.

"Well, you know I've been in Hogwarts with Malfoy for years now, and even though I may not have been friends or anything even remotely like that with him, I do know what he's like. He's always been kind of aloof you know, sort of putting himself on a level higher than us all the time; always so distant. I don't even know if his own Slytherins know him that well…"

"Spit it out, Will." Harry asked, eyes focused on Will's unhappily worried face, his eyes looking for any way to get out of this conversation he was having right now.

"Okay I'll get to the point."

Will squared his shoulders, resolving to get it over with,

"Malfoy's never been close to anyone outside of his closest circle, ever. He's never bothered to put in the effort. Particularly not in the past year. So what we were wondering, watching you two on the field, was, are you his mate?"

For one eternal moment, time stood still. The Gryffindors craned their necks, trying to catch Harry's response.

"Mate?" Harry asked blankly. As he stared at Will's uncomfortable face, Harry suddenly realized he knew exactly what Will was talking about.


	9. Chapter 9

I own own no characters. Enjoy!

"What the hell?" Harry could practically feel his whole body quivering with rage, but he fought to keep himself in check before something exploded.

Draco looked up, his brow furrowing at Harry's taut face.

"What's the matter?" he questioned, standing up in one graceful motion. "Did someone upset you?"

"Yes you!" Harry practically growled, his hands flying out to shove Draco. To his irritation, his hands made no impact on Draco's chest, and he stood as solidly as ever, hardly even budging. Urgh.

"What's this I hear about me being your mate?" Harry demanded.

He searched Draco's face for his reaction. On one hand, his heart pounded to know the truth; wanted to hear that he was Draco's mate, but on the other hand, his mind shrank painfully away from if that really was the truth, wanting Draco to deny everything. _Too fast, too fast_ , Harry's mind screamed.

"Oh." Draco's face showed his comprehension. A veil fell over his eyes, so when Harry looked up, he looked into guarded eyes.

"What do you mean Oh?" Harry practically screamed. Harry mentally took a step back. He sounded like a girl, and now was too early for the hysterics.

He also took note of the fact that they were in the library. Though they were in the deepest corner of the library, with only dusty stacks of books surrounding them, one never knew when that nosy librarian might choose to make an appearance.

He didn't want another audience for this conversation right now.

"What I am asking is," Harry began, in a much calmer voice. "Is there any truth, to what people are saying, that I am your mate?"

Harry stared into Draco's eyes, wishing he could decipher the thoughts that Draco was surely thinking behind those deep eyes. Draco's eyes, in turn, were moving steadily over Harry's face, trying to decide…decide what?

Draco took a step forward, now only a foot away from Harry's trembling frame. Harry instinctively took a step backwards, uncertain about Draco being so close. He had this strange, almost unreasonable thought that Draco was struggling not to reach out and touch him right now. But that was ridiculous.

"Yes." Draco's eyes were still unfathomable, but his voice was low and steady. "Yes, you, Harry Potter, are my mate."

Harry would have expected to feel panic, joy, anything…but he only felt weariness overcome him. _Too fast, too fast_ , Harry's mind started up the mantra again. It was just crazy. The one boy he actually liked, that he actually got to know, and found interesting, and it turned out he was a _Veela_ , and furthermore, Harry was his mate! It was…he needed to think…just…totally…

"Oh." He got out, the remark bland and anticlimactic in the wake of the bombshell that had just been thrown at him.

Draco eyed him.

"Are you…in shock?" He asked tentatively.

"No, I'm not in shock." Harry replied, his voice shaking weakly.

Draco waited.

Nothing.

Outside, the sun was shining, and little black figures frolicked around the lake, splashing water and running freely around, their raucous laughter only prevented from entering the library by the thick glass windows. Inside, it seemed time had stood still.

"Say something." Draco's voice sounded almost like a plea. "What are you feeling?"

Draco almost reached out to touch Harry; Harry could see his fingers moving longingly in his direction, almost killing itself not to touch him, stopped only by the strange expression on Harry's face.

Harry could feel the room closing menacingly in on him; could almost hear a cold wind whistling past his ears; could see the sides of his vision start to shimmer. He felt…trapped.

 _Everything was going too fast._

Turning around sharply, he ran.

He ran, pounding the stone floor with his shoes, his breaths coming loud and fast, as he tried to escape from reality.

"Harry!"

Harry could hear Draco behind him, keeping pace easily with him, and shouting his name. Draco was going to catch up soon.

Harry could feel Draco's long arms twine around his waist, hauling him to a stop halfway down the corridor.

His heart was pounding, he couldn't breathe. Dimly, through his gasps for air, he could feel Draco's heart beating the same erratic rhythm behind him.

He was going to break down and cry soon, he just knew it.

"Sssh Sssh," Draco whispered, trying to calm Harry's heaving shoulders. "Just stay still okay? Please, just stay here for a while."

Harry gradually calmed down, his mind slowing in its paces for him to be able to think rationally.

Finally, he turned to meet Draco's eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded; his voice unsteady. "I spent practically the whole morning with you, talking about your life, and everything else under the sun, but I had to find out about this from my friends."

"I didn't know you yet." Draco replied softly, trying not to antagonize the angry boy in front of him further. "And you didn't know me either. I wanted to tell you the moment I saw you step out of that portrait hole – but you looked so scared of me, so wary, like you were already regretting last night- "

Draco put up a hand to ward off Harry's protests.

"-Let me finish. So I took a chance. I figured it would be better for us if you got to know me better; got to know me without this mate business hanging over us and pressurizing you. I didn't know you, after all, and I wasn't sure whether you'd be happy, or you'd run for the hills. And I wasn't willing to take that chance. I didn't believe it would be so obvious though, so I didn't expect you to find out from your friends before you heard from me. I am sorry for that; that you didn't hear it from me."

Draco finished, his eyes pleading for Harry to accept his explanation.

Harry mulled over Draco's words.

"I would have wanted to be the one that told you." Draco murmured, his eyes bleak.

Would it have been better, Harry wondered, to have been in Hogwarts all this time, and known Draco for half his life? Perhaps when he found out he was Draco's mate, there would have been some history between them; whether they would have shared animosity from being in different houses, or maybe even had a sort of friendship, would it have been better than now, to have this news sprung upon him, both of them practically strangers?

Or was it better now, having been given the chance to start on a brand new slate?

Harry took a deep breath, trying to dispel the cloudiness that enveloped his head. His thought process was so much the slower now, and he could hardly think, especially with Draco so close.

"I think we're moving too fast."

Draco's forehead creased as he stared down at Harry's obstinately turned away face.

"So, you want me to back off?"

Draco tried to control his voice, to stay neutral.

"In a way." Harry paused. "I need to think about this….alone."

Harry looked up, surprised, when Draco took a step back, removing his hands from Harry's shoulders. Immediately, the loss of his warmth was felt, and Harry struggled to remain his sense of balance, as long as knock away the silly feeling that somehow his world had been knocked off its axis.

"That's fine with me. I've got to head back now to finish my paper anyway, so you can think now."

Draco's eyes were cold, his voice distant. Harry blinked, uncertain at Draco's sudden change in mood. Turning his back, Draco quickly rounded the corner, out of Harry's sight. Harry could hear the soft clatter of the stone floor under Draco's hard strides. And soon, even the sound disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the corridor.

Harry stifled the urge to call Draco back, to push back the feeling that somehow Draco had misinterpreted his words. But Draco was gone, leaving Harry alone to think, as requested.

Turning around, he moved in the opposite direction, back to his Common Room, trying to shake off the pervading chill that seemed to settle into his bones.

* * *

The next few days were hard.

It wasn't that Draco didn't give him space, no, in fact he more than gave Harry more than time to think.

And Harry didn't like it one bit.

Whether it was seeing a glimpse of ice blond hair weaving through the crowd, whether it was catching a glimpse of eyes the color of molten mercury, or whether it was the innocent brush of shoulders along the crowded halls, Harry was constantly aware of the blond Veela. He was also very much aware of the whispers of the other students. It seemed the both of them had captured the imaginations of the student body. Even without any confirmation of mate status with Harry and Draco, (Harry refused to talk about it, nobody dared to ask Draco) rumors still abounded.

Even without anymore sightings of Harry with Draco, talk flourished. Because apparently, Draco stared. A lot.

Except Harry never noticed it.

Many a time Alex had nudged Harry, urging him "Look! Look now!", but by the time Harry had lifted his head, that blond head was turned away again, seemingly focused on something else.

It got to the point where Harry refused to believe it anymore.

"Stop it, okay, Alex." Harry huffed. "I know you're trying to live vicariously through me, and I understand and appreciate how you would do that seeing as how you left Lantions and Mirabelle for me, but you could try to stop fanning the flames!"

"What, it's true!" Alex glared back. "You're the only one who can't see how he stares constantly at you."

"No, I don't see it because it's not happening. He's got better things to do than stare at me, alright?"

"I don't think so." Alex replied, spooning a mouthful of porridge into his mouth. "So you're really not his mate?"

Harry scowled, immediately noting the change in atmosphere, as a few Gryffindors, and even some Hufflepuffs from the next table tried to lean in. Vultures.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Alex noticed the eavesdroppers too, and gave the nosy neighbours a baleful look.

"Not here, at least." Harry amended in a softer voice. He told Alex everything, and Alex was not by nature a patient person. He would most probably try to pummel everything out of Harry after Day Three, upon reaching the end of his very short tolerance tether.

Unbidden, Harry's eyes wandered past the crowded Hall to Draco's profile at the Slytherin table. His face was turned away, though Harry could see what looked to be a frown on his face. Like he'd heard something unwelcome, or was in unpleasant circumstances.

Will was right, now that Harry noticed. The Slytherins kept a wide berth around Draco's comings and goings, always making certain that respect was accorded to Draco Malfoy. Now, Draco was sitting at the center of the table, surrounded by his … _minions_ , as Ron liked to refer to them as. There were two almost identical bulky boys on either side of him, with Draco's best friend and roommate Blaise Zabini opposite him. Flanking them going down the table were the fellow Slytherin Seventh Years. Draco was the undisputed 'king' of the Slytherin table, with no one outside of the three surrounding him ever accorded anything other than the chance to catch a glimpse, and stay slightly closer to his presence than the rest in the Hall.

Harry shook away his speculation about Draco. What he needed to concentrate on was his thoughts towards this whole matter. It was shaping up to be a real debacle, the way things were going. Even without any encouragement on their part, the students were adding fuel to the fire, spinning their own wild stories and theories. It would be unreasonable to expect anything less from them though. After all, the gossiping was almost in a stage of frenzy, especially when this love match included two very interesting candidates: the newly-discovered and still mysterious Savior of the wizarding world, and the highly mysterious and gorgeous Veela.

Two enigmatic personas - so much tales to weave.

Harry sighed.

Glancing up at the Head Table, he noticed James and Lily were almost done with their breakfast, and shooting what they probably thought were discreet glances in his direction.

Damn.

Quickly standing up, Harry motioned to Alex.

"Come on, we're going to be late for Potions."

Dragging Alex out despite his protests and attempts to stuff one last pancake into his mouth, Harry missed the grey eyes fixed on his retreating figure.

* * *

Snape glided to the front of the class, eying the class with barely concealed distaste.

"You'll be doing the Corlis Potion today. Turn to page 132 of your textbook for the detailed instructions. Your partner will be the same as the previous lesson."

Harry was just about to inquire as to who his partner would be, when Snape added, "Mr. Potter, since you and Mr. Malfoy missed my last Potions class, you two are to pair up and complete your previous assignment. Take your seats at the back of the class; your instructions are on the desk."

Regarding Harry with an icy glare, Snape swept away to the opposite end of the room to help Longbottom before he blew up his cauldron.

Harry reluctantly moved over to the table, inwardly thanking his lucky stars that Professor Snape had not chosen to single him out and ask for his whereabouts the previous Potions lesson. He did _not_ want the whole class' attention on him while explaining what they so desperately wanted to know. Draco was already seated at the back, looking through the instructions. His mercury eyes lifted for a second to acknowledge Harry, before flicking downwards to the instructions again.

Harry glanced at the instructions. Good. He'd done this potion before, so it wasn't going to be a problem. He ignored the slight pang of hurt that washed over him upon Draco's indifferent response to him. He batted away the unreasonable, self-pitying thought that came to him: _I'm his mate, surely I deserve more attention._

 _You still need time to think, remember!_ He reminded himself harshly. _Why are you so upset over him being so considerate and giving you time to think anyway? You're the one that asked for it._

Draco started measuring the ingredients, and Harry began to prepare them.

They worked quickly, silently helping each other.

Harry worked quickly, glancing at the parchment occasionally for the directions. He'd done this potion before at Lantions, so it wasn't much of a challenge requiring his full attention; however he still needed to refer to the instructions once in a while. Slicing the bulbous roots efficiently into equal parts, he moved on to the salamander, trying not to touch Draco as much as he could. It was hard to avoid the occasional graze; working in the tight space, but Harry dodged any potential encounters adeptly.

As for Draco, Harry noticed him focusing intently on stirring the potion, adding the few ingredients necessary when needed. Not even displaying the slightest interest in him. Harry let out a small, derisive snort, at his self-pitying thoughts again.

"Have you had enough time already?"

Draco's question was asked so softly that Harry wasn't quite sure he even heard it. Draco's head tilted reflexively in his direction, waiting for his answer.

Harry paused for a moment, taken aback ... deciding how to phrase his reply, and trying to guess how Draco would react.

"Yes, I have." Harry replied just as soft as Draco had.

Indeed, Harry had spent many sleepless nights staring up at his ceiling, and trying to figure out a way from this predicament. Yes, he wanted Draco very much. But he didn't know how much that was due to Draco's magnetic force of attraction that seemed to suck Harry in like a vortex. Harry didn't want to get swept away by this physical desire, without giving his brain a chance to catch up, and eventually finding he had fallen in lust, not love.

"And?"

Harry noticed Draco's fingers turn white with tension on the ladle, almost flexing convulsively.

"I agree with you…"

Draco swiftly looked up.

"Getting to know each other first is a good idea. We really shouldn't let this ... mutual attraction between both of us hinder us from getting to know each other better in the non-physical sense."

"I see."

The dark eyes that gazed at him now were impenetrable in their depths, impossible to read.

Harry had never felt so flustered in his life. His hand, damp with perspiration, accidentally slid across the sharp blade.

"Dammit!" Harry winced at the sharp pain, holding his palm tightly, absently noting the deep red blood that oozed out between his fingers.

In a flash, Draco was by his side. He cursed. "Be more careful! Does it hurt a lot?"

Taking Harry's hands in his, he pushed away Harry's left hand to reveal his right palm. Flattening Harry's palm, he looked at it objectively, seemingly not noticing the blood gushing out. At the same time, he dipped a clean washcloth into the sink, wetting it, and bringing it to Harry's palm.

Harry hissed in pain at the sting of the cold water.

Dabbing away the blood, Draco smiled.

"There, it doesn't look so bad now."

Indeed, without the blood covering Harry's sliced palm, the wound didn't look so gruesome, and the blood flow was beginning to slow.

Draco turned eyes that were filled with irritation now on Harry.

"What is wrong with you? You nearly sliced your palm open! Clumsy fool."

Harry felt a slight twinge of hurt at Draco's words, but managed to hide it well. Instinctively, he flared back, resentment evident in his voice.

"Well I didn't ask for your help! If you don't want such a clumsy lab partner you can always ask Professor Snape for a change!"

Draco glared at Harry, his eyes dark pools of annoyance.

"You know I don't want that." He bit back angrily. "One day you're going to hurt yourself through your own actions!"

"Well, I don't know what you want!" Harry replied, his voice tightly laced with emotion. "And I can take care of myself perfectly well, thank you very much."

Angrily, Harry tried to snatch his hand back.

Draco grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back and up against his hard chest.

Harry struggled hard, annoyed at being restrained in that manner.

"No, you need a keeper." Draco murmured.

Harry looked up indignantly, meaning to tell Draco where to shove his opinions at, however he was startled at the patiently amused expression Draco was wearing, sort of like how an amused lover would look indulgently at a spoiled spouse.

"My hand's fine now." Harry retorted softly, still taken aback at Draco's sudden change of mood. It seemed like Draco was changing at will between emotions, leaving Harry bemused and struggling to keep up with him. Where was the cold, distant Draco from a few days ago?

"No it's not." Draco disagreed, a light tone entering his previously angry voice. "Want me to kiss it better?"

"No!" Harry vehemently disagreed, but Draco paid him no notice, lifting Harry's hand to his lips and pressing a light kiss in the hollow of Harry's palm, just above the wound.

Harry's eyes locked with Draco's in surprise, trying not to close his eyes in pleasure at the light touch. Draco was staring at Harry intently. Pressing another kiss to Harry's palm, he placed Harry's hand on his cheek.

Harry let it lie there of his own volition, feeling the strong jaw and slight stubble on Draco's chin lightly tickling between his fingers.

"Go out with me, Harry?"

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Next Saturday is a Hogsmeade Saturday. I'd like to take you out so we can get to know each other better."

Draco smiled, and Harry's heart gave a flutter.

"Okay." He whispered, startled by his easy acceptance.

"Okay." Draco repeated, giving him another smile. "We'll take it slow, like you want."

Turning back to the cauldron, Harry tried to concentrate on the ingredients once again. While his mind absently directed his body to complete the familiar potion, another part of his mind was distracted by the overpowering presence of the blond Veela working next to him.

When the bell rang, Harry packed his things quickly. It was time for the independent lessons with Dumbledore. Quickly saying goodbye to Draco, he rushed out the door.

Draco gazed after Harry, an almost-wistful look passing into his eyes.

A hand landed on Draco's shoulder, shaking him back to the present.

"Mind telling me what this is about?" Snape frowned. "I was planning on hauling that Potter up in front of the whole class for skipping my lesson."

Draco absently remarked. "Then you'd have to subject me to humiliation too, seeing as how I was with him."

Snape stared at his godson, his mind working furiously behind those impregnable onyx eyes.

"So it's true then." He ventured. "I thought the rumors flying around the student body were plain hogwash. You and a Gryffindor, skipping class to be together…I dismissed it as rubbish. I made up my mind prematurely, I now see."

"You've also heard the rumors about him being my mate, haven't you?"

Draco turned his eyes upon his godfather.

His godfather nodded.

"Curious as to what is the truth?" Draco asked blandly, enjoying the blatant interest Snape was trying unsuccessfully to hide.

Snape tried to shrug nonchalantly, the gesture looking extremely inappropriate on the stiff Potions Master.

"He is my mate." Draco answered, eyes shining softly at the revelation.

"I guessed as much." Snape sank to the chair opposite Draco. "How's he taking it? It seemed like you two were sharing a … _moment_ back then. You're lucky I didn't report you to the Headmaster for inappropriate behavior." Snape scowled at Draco.

Draco sighed, the light dimming slightly in his eyes.

"Not as well as I'd hoped." He admitted unwillingly.

Snape raised his eyebrow, skepticism clear in his eyes.

Draco smiled. "That display you're thinking of is the closest I can get to him now without spooking him. I was trying to give him time to think, but it seemed more like he was avoiding me. So I got impatient –"

"-And you got me to force his hand and get him close enough to you to talk." His godfather concluded dryly.

Draco nodded sheepishly, ducking his head.

"Do Narcissa and Lucius know about this?" Snape asked.

Draco shook his head, a flush of red high on his cheekbones. "No. And I'd rather you don't tell them now."

Snape shook his head. "Always the proud little dragon." He mocked lightly.

"I'd rather I introduce Harry to my parents when he's more comfortable with me. And I suppose you're right. I _am_ proud, and I want my parents to be sure of my happiness, and sure of him, when I tell them. _I_ want to be sure of him, before I tell them."

"So what are you telling your parents?" Snape asked, inwardly laughing at the thought of his arrogant godson being unsure of anything in his whole life.

"I mentioned before that my mate was in Gryffindor, but my parents already knew that. I also said he was a boy, but that's about all that I told them. At the time I told them, it wasn't … bright enough to see much of Harry."

Snape raised an eyebrow at that suggestive remark, but let it pass.

"I imagine they must be going out of their minds."

Draco smiled widely. "Letters every day from my mum begging me to tell them his identity, so they can pressure him into tailoring matching robes, I assume. But I haven't been replying."

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Draco.

"It's not fair to him if they want to pester him. And it's not fair to me either, for them to expect this to be easy on me. After all, my dad knew my mum practically his whole life, and spent almost every waking hour with her here in Hogwarts before he came into his Inheritance. She was practically his already. I didn't have that luxury."

Snape considered Draco carefully, noting the flushed cheeks and almost rebellious glint in his eyes.

"As long as you consider what you're doing carefully, I don't believe you won't be able to win his heart." Snape spoke as sincerely as he could, trying not to let slip the shudder he felt at his godson courting a bloody Gryffindor.

Draco smiled. "I intend to succeed."

* * *

Harry wearily lifted his head up from the pile of notes. Already, the light entering the window was starting to fade, and Harry knew it must be close to dinner time already. It had to be only three hours then, but somehow it felt like he had spent an eternity in this room.

Dumbledore wasn't kidding when he said there would be lots of research. Harry had been looking through the transcribed copies of the aged parchment, referencing many history textbooks and dictionaries along the way. It was tough work trying to understand the language and nuances of the ancient scripts, but it was going to be well worth it. Already, ancient spells of protection and attack leapt up at him from the page. He'd never seen spells like these before. Amazing.

"How did you come by these manuscripts, Sir? If you don't mind me asking."

Dumbledore peered up absently over his half-moon glasses, lost in thought poring over the documents.

"Oh they were recovered from the last descendent of the Chinese's oldest wizarding family. The documents were originally locked away and buried in their family vault. Just as how the seven military classics were hidden due to the potential for revolution being there, these manuscripts were hidden as they had the power to swing the battle over to the bearer's side. At that time, there was already little need for any power of this sort, so eventually the documents stayed hidden, almost forgotten, in the family vault, until they were passed to me, when the line ended."

"We never had the need to use this before, nor even thought about it, I suppose."

Harry nodded, and bent his head to the task again.

Time ticked by. Harry stretched out; lean and muscular like a giant panther in the small chair, trying to ease the cramps in his shoulder.

Dumbledore looked up again, glancing at his watch in astonishment.

"You'd best be going, my boy! It's almost time for dinner."

"Yes sir."

Harry made it out of the chair, and looked, satisfied, down at the work he had completed this afternoon. Almost all of the first manuscript was transcribed, with Dumbledore's lesson notes written neatly in the margin. Placing his work in the center of Dumbledore's desk, Harry walked away and closed the door quietly behind him.

Turning around, Harry was just as shocked as the next person when he came face to face with James and Lily Potter.


	10. Chapter 10

I own own no characters. Enjoy!

"Harry!" James exclaimed, delight entering his eyes, along with a fair bit of trepidation. Well, that ruled out them actually staking out Dumbledore's office in hopes of catching him unaware for the 'talk' he just knew they were dying to have. James' trepidation was to be expected though, Harry supposed. After all, the last few encounters he had had with his biological parents were not exactly easy to stomach for them.

Lily smiled carefully, obviously trying not to do anything that might scare him or antagonize him. "Hello Harry," Lily said.

Harry stared back, his mind idly wondering how he could extricate himself out of this situation.

"James, Lily." He acknowledged, nodding his head at them. He ignored the slight wince from the both of them. "I'm late for dinner, so I'd better – "

He gestured towards the stairs, intent on leaving as soon as possible.

"Wait!" James jumped in, his desperation clear on his face.

"Yes?" Harry asked, feeling slightly ashamed of himself for not even trying. _Why even bother to come here if not to at least understand why your parents gave you up_? He asked himself. _If at the least you don't like them or choose to forgive them, you should at least try to understand their motives, ridiculous as they may be._

"Um, since you're late for dinner, we won't delay you or take up your time that you have to do homework. But would you be willing to spend some time with us next Saturday?"

Harry steeled himself, trying not to balk at the thought of having alone time with his parents.

"I can't."

James' face fell.

"Next Sunday's a Hogsmeade Saturday, and I already have plans." Harry cursed himself. Why'd he feel the need to assuage James' fears of rejection? They had already rejected him once.

"Oh." James still looked unhappy, though not quite as despondent as before.

"What about next Sunday?" Lily jumped in.

"Okay." Harry hesitantly agreed. Better to get this over with, he groaned to himself. Perhaps the whole day spent with them, torturous as it may be, might help decrease the time Harry spent in between classes and breaks trying to dodge the two, who were intent on 'chatting with him for a while.' Besides he couldn't think of a single plausible excuse he could muster up to avoid this meeting.

Both their faces brightened at his unexpected agreement. Harry felt slightly better for making their day, even if by doing so he had doomed himself to a day spent with them.

Saying goodbye to them, he headed down for dinner.

"You're much too kind for your own good, Harry." He muttered, kicking a step for good measure.

* * *

.

The week passed pretty quickly. Draco walked him to every class, always lingering before the bell rang, and appearing outside his classroom before the last bell rang. Harry wondered once, how Draco was getting away with entering his classes late and leaving early, but soon banished the thought away in favor of enjoying the pleasure of Draco's company.

Draco was witty and considerate, never failing to make Harry's day. And yet Harry found himself looking forward to their Saturday date more and more, where they could be relatively alone, without the whole corridor of students milling around, trying to eavesdrop on their conversations.

"Tomorrow's your date with Draco!" Alex sang, looking extremely pleased. Leaning over to whack Harry lightly on the shoulder, he sat back on his bed. "What're you thinking about?"

"What to wear." Harry answered honestly, if a bit absently. He was currently lying on his back on his bed, staring up at the white canopy above him.

Alex dissolved in giggles, rolling around his bed in undisguised glee. "You sound like Mirabelle!" He choked out in between his laughter.

"Alex, you have to help me!" Harry suddenly begged, turning his head to look sideways at Alex. "Seriously, I don't know what to do!"

Alex turned to look at Harry, and dissolved in laughter again.

"I'm serious!" Harry whined. "You've been out with practically the whole population of Lantions before you settled with Mirabelle, you have to help!"

"Okay okay." Alex settled into a seat on his bed, crossing his legs like Buddha. "Listen to Guru Alex and you shall be enlightened."

Harry tossed a pillow at Alex's head.

"Alright!" Alex muttered, catching the pillow before it hit him square on the face.

"First up, you already interact with and talk to Draco like … since forever, so there's no need for first impressions. Though from what you told me, I'm sure he was _very_ impressed meeting you for the first time." Alex wriggled his eyebrows lasciviously at Harry, who blushed a crimson red.

"So just take it casual!" Alex pronounced, waving his hands in the air. "Wear maybe a green shirt to set off your eyes, and dark slacks and you're all set to go!"

"Okay thanks." Harry muttered, his cheeks still flushed.

"Anyway, Draco's a Veela, Harry. And you're his mate. No matter whether you go out in a clown suit I'm pretty sure he'll still be willing to ravish you."

"Yes sure." Harry got up from the bed, stretching his legs. "I'm going to see Will for a bit."

"And tell Dean to pay me my twenty Galleons!" Alex yelled after him. "I won it fair and square!"

Harry moved quickly down the corridor to the other boys' dorm. Somehow Dumbledore had managed to charm another dorm for both Alex and Harry into the Gryffindor tower. Harry appreciated the gesture; it would have sucked to squeeze into an already filled dorm. And it was great sharing a dorm with just Alex, giving him a break from all of Hogwarts, to just return to the feeling that it was just Alex and Harry, still in Lantions.

Harry knocked cautiously on the door. "Come in!" Will called, the sound slightly muffled by the thick door.

Harry smiled as he opened the door. "Hello, Will." He said, taking in the other empty beds. Will was the only one seated on his bed, bent over his homework. "Where's everyone else?"

"Quidditch." Will sighed, pointing out the window. "I just got assigned a really long assignment to do though, that's why I'm not out there." He finished, glancing moodily out the window.

"Oh," Harry sat down on Ron's bed opposite Will, watching as Will inked a few more lines of words onto his parchment. He wasn't quite sure why he was here.

"James and Lily want to meet me on Sunday." Harry finally confessed.

"Did you agree?" Will asked, looking up at Harry.

"Yes." Harry answered, not quite sure what Will's reaction would be.

"Oh." Will answered, exhaling and blowing up a falling lock of hair. The quill scratched on the parchment; the only sound in the silent dormitory.

"I wouldn't have, you know." Will suddenly said.

"Huh?"

"I wouldn't have said yes. I've been thinking about them abandoning you all this while, and I realized if they had actually interpreted the prophecy correctly, identified the correct Savior, I would be there, sitting on Ron's bed now, while you'd be here."

Harry thought over Will's words. It was true, if the pendulum of fate had swung the other way, it would have been likely that Will would have been the one abandoned at St. Patrick's, and Harry would have been the one growing up at Godric's Hollow.

"If they had asked me to meet with them, I would have said no. Out of anger, out of resentment, probably just to deny them what they want for the satisfaction of it all. But I guess you're not like me. You're more mature."

"Maybe." Harry laughed. The tension in the room broke, but Harry knew both of them would remember this conversation and its severity for all of time.

"Here I wanted to pass this to you." Will rummaged under his bed, finally coming up with a brand-new book in dark blue.

"What's that?"

"It's actually an autobiographical account from this Veela. About how he grew up, how he found his mate, and it includes quite a lot of facts about Veelas at the back." Will told Harry. "Since you're … you know, Malfoy's mate, I thought you might want to read this."

Harry looked down at the book, inexplicably touched. "Thanks," he got out, knowing that it must have taken a lot of effort on Will's part to find the book.

"Most other Veela fiction are purely trash. Soppy books for girls dreaming of a Prince Charming that would love them forever, and do anything for them." Will said, looking embarrassed. "But I asked around, and Hermione told me that this book is the best, especially since its non-fiction."

"Thanks again." Harry smiled, rising up from his seat and taking the book. "I'll be sure to read it."

"You're welcome," Will answered, grinning a little. "You won't finish it by tomorrow though, I heard Alex telling Dean that's when you two are going on a date."

Harry colored rapidly. "Don't tell anyone else!" He warned Will, hoping his tone was suitably menacing.

"I won't!" Will yelled back, before the door closed. "But I bet you're really anxious for Saturday to come!"

Harry shut the door on Will's peals of laughter, deciding the first thing he would do with the book was to whack Alex's head with it.

* * *

.

Saturday came.

Draco was waiting outside the portrait hole for him, taking up his usual spot leaning against the wall. This time though, he was dressed casually, sans the robe and tie, in dark pants and a white shirt.

"Ready to go?" He asked, looking over Harry appreciatively.

Harry had followed Alex's advice, tossing on a dark green shirt that complimented his eyes and dark pants.

"You look great in that shirt." Draco complimented, watching the red rise up in Harry's cheeks with amusement.

God, so adorable, he thought. And positively delectable to boot.

"I'm ready." Harry confirmed.

Draco slipped a hand around Harry, resting it on the small of his back.

"Great. I thought we'd walk down to Hogsmeade, since the weather is lovely today."

They walked down to Hogsmeade, ignoring the blatant looks of curiosity thrust their way by fellow Hogwarts students. Tomorrow would bring a whole new round of fresh gossip, Harry grimly thought, but he pushed that thought to the darkest recesses of his mind. No, today he was determined to enjoy his first date with Draco, possibly the person he would spend the rest of his life with.

Wasn't that strange. Most people went on first dates hoping to find the person that could complete them; that they would find interesting and compatible enough to spend the rest of their lives with. Yet here Harry was going on this date already knowing that Draco thought he was the one, for life, for ever, and hoping he would match up to his expectations, yet at the same time, desperately afraid to commit to a Veela that he had barely known for a week.

Draco entertained Harry with little snippets of history about Hogsmeade, and anecdotes about its inhabitants, both of them laughing, mostly at the wacky lives people led, and sometimes for fun, a laugh just bubbling out in pure joy.

Harry discreetly admired Draco. Here, in the sunlight, he was gorgeous. The sunlight was revealing the different tints of blonde that Draco's hair contained, and Draco's pale countenance was made ever more striking, almost glowing, in the bright sunlight.

"Do you ever get outside?" Harry impulsively asked.

Draco smirked. "You're asking if my deadly pallor is because I spend all my time cooped up in the dungeons, huh?"

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "Your skin makes you look more like a vampire than a half-Veela."

"Excuse me!" Draco replied, slightly affronted. "Our pale skin and white-blond hair runs in the Malfoy family. That's how you can distinguish the Malfoy men. Generally, the women look the same too, though there are exceptions."

"Really?" Harry wondered, impressed.

"Yeah. My mother looks like the rest of the Malfoy clan, though technically she was born a Black. But my cousin has black hair, probably from the Black line, and scattered amongst us we have different eye colors and facial structures from different lines, mostly pureblood, though."

"Your mother is related to Sirius?" Harry asked in astonishment. He never would have associated someone like Sirius to be related to the Malfoy family. Looking at Draco alone, he could safely assume that Malfoys, if Draco was right and they all resembled each other, were refined, cultured, and extremely rich, practically rolling in old money. Sirius ... Harry always had the impression that Sirius was a bit of a rebel, with his rock-star hair and outlandish, sometimes coming across as brash, ways, and disdain for anything of 'culture'.

"Surprising, I know. They're cousins. Though I should probably tell you that Sirius Black is the black sheep of the Black line. He was in Gryffindor, he ran away from home when he was fifteen, he hangs out with the Potters..." Here Draco shot Harry a smirk. "And he doesn't have anything to do with the Black name or money, for all I know. I know he probably has a trust fund somewhere, but I think my mother said before he never touched it once he turned of age."

"Hmmm." Harry pondered over this new side of Sirius Black. When he'd met Sirius, he hadn't really been able to form a concrete opinion of his godfather, his attention having been diverted to others. Yet, Sirius had been the first one to actually address him, to talk to him.

In the midst of all this heavy talk they had reached Hogsmeade. _Quaint,_ was Harry's first thought. He eyed the little huddle of shops, the students milling around and excitedly entering and exiting different shops, and the cobbled town square beneath his feet. It had a very homely feel to itself, and Harry instantly felt at ease in this town that had seen many students come and go, just a stone's throw away from Hogwarts.

"Let's bring you on a tour around Hogsmeade," Draco declared, tugging slightly on Harry's arm and guiding him into the nearest shop. "This here is Zonko's..."

Three hours later, Harry and Draco entered The Three Broomsticks. They had gone to most of Hogsmeade, even up for a quick visit to the Shrieking Shack, before retracing their steps and stopping for a break. The shop was packed filled with Hogwarts students and the occasional Hogsmeade inhabitant. The students looked up upon the cool breeze the fresh arrivals brought in, and seeing the two boys framed in the doorway, immediately started a frenzy of whispering.

Draco sighed. "Ignore them, Harry," he murmured, taking in Harry's expression, and guiding them to a secluded table near the back.

"Yeah sure." Harry answered, tearing his eyes away from the other students. "What's good here?" He asked, sliding into the booth.

"Try the Butterbeer." Draco suggested. "Should warm you up, though it's really not that chilly outside. Or you could try the soda."

"Hello, Madam Rosmerta," Draco greeted the pretty blond that came over to serve their table warmly. "How're you doing?"

"Well, hello, Draco." The lady blushed, her lashes fluttering. Harry stifled a laugh. "We haven't seen you around here in ages!"

"I've been busy," Draco answered. "This is Harry Potter; I don't think you've met him before."

"Hello, Harry." Rosmerta looked over Harry in glee. "You look just like your brother, but he's maybe not so shy. And he's not on a date with this rake here," she winked at Draco.

"Err, thank you." Harry muttered, embarrassed.

Draco noticed, and quickly ordered. "We'd like one Butterbeer and a soda, please." Madam Rosmerta nodded, moving away.

"So you can try both and see which you like," Draco explained.

The drinks were promptly delivered to their table, and Harry took a first, cautious sip of Butterbeer. Warmth spread through him, and Harry found himself licking his lips, trying to reclaim that wonderful, caramel-like taste.

"Good, isn't it?" Draco remarked.

"Yes, it tastes wonderful!" Harry enthused, taking another, larger gulp. "How have I gone through life without tasting this?"

Draco laughed. "Well, now you have. How's school been so far?"

Harry was so very tempted to answer with the first thought that came to his mind. _Oh great! For the past week when I hadn't been trying to avoid you, I'd been running away from my parents. And then this week I've had to work on avoiding my parents, and not jumping you whenever we do potions together._

"It's been pretty good." Harry answered carefully. "The lessons with Dumbledore are going quite well too."

The lessons had been going well, Harry reflected. They had tried out a few of the spells just a few days ago, and Dumbledore had actually spent a good portion of the time discussing the strategies of war and tactics with Harry. Dumbledore may have possessed much power, having been the defeater of Grindelwald after all, but he was also a master tactician, as he had clearly demonstrated in their last lesson.

 _Flashback:_

" _Okay, Harry look at this."_

 _Harry had looked at Dumbledore's desk, seeing a large board containing a grid. Next to the large grid was a chess board, the pieces all neatly arranged at the starting positions._

" _This is the best way I can think of to explain to you what we are currently trying to achieve. Firstly, the two board games that best approximate the strategies of war are chess and the Asian game, known as Wei-chi in China."_

 _Harry nodded; watching Dumbledore's hands as he deftly moved the pieces around the chess board._

" _Let's start with chess; you probably already have at least a rudimentary understanding of it. In chess, the board is small. Attacks come very quickly from your opponent, forcing you to make a move and either defend, or counter-attack. A decisive battle is forced, and eventually there comes a point in chess where the tide turns in either player's favor; a showdown of sorts, often with many casualties on both sides."_

 _Dumbledore fixed the chess pieces, and engaged them in a mock battle in the middle of the chess board. He played against himself, and eventually five pawns and a knight were lost from the white side, while the black side sacrificed a rook, two pawns, and a queen, to win the battle._

" _It hardly ever pays to withdraw or sacrifice your pieces, which might eventually be the prelude to your defeat. The pieces have to be concentrated at key areas, in order to stand a chance of winning. But still, chess is linear, position-oriented and aggressive, ultimately depending on how well-protected your king is, and how strategic your moves, for a winner to emerge."_

 _Dumbledore moved the pieces again, forcing the white side to defend the attacking whites, eventually losing, and the white king checkmated._

" _Checkmate." Dumbledore said softly, laying the white king down on its side._

" _This was how wars were fought in my time." Dumbledore said, looking up at Harry with those piercing blue eyes. "Many people were sacrificed; many people died fighting their way to, or protecting the 'king' of the chess board. Although we won in the end, many unnecessary sacrifices were made and too many lives were lost."_

 _Dumbledore pushed the chess board off to the side, and pulled the large grid to the center of the desk._

" _Now look at Wei-chi. Wei-chi means 'surrounding game' or 'surrounding chess' and the object is simply to capture territory by placing down counters. Considered to be the world's greatest strategic skill's game, far surpassing chess in its complexity and scope, it is played on this large grid, with 361 intersections, close to six times as many positions as in chess can be played. Black and white stones representing opposing sides are placed on the board's intersections, depending on where you like. Once all your stones – each side has 52 – are on the board, the objective of the game is to isolate the stones of your opponent by encircling them, thus defeating them."_

 _Dumbledore waved his wand and the different colored stones assembled themselves on the board with a clatter._

" _The game of Wei-chi can last up to three hundred moves. The strategy is more subtle and fluid than chess, developing slowly; the more complex the pattern your stones create on the board at first, the harder it is for your opponent to understand your strategy. It's not worth the trouble to fight to control a particular area; you have to think in bigger terms, to be prepared to sacrifice an area in order to eventually dominate the board."_

 _Dumbledore waved his wand again, swishing it down decidedly. Harry watched, almost entranced, as the stones moved in turn on the board, forming complex patterns._

" _What you are after," Dumbledore told Harry, "is not an entrenched position; a fortress, but mobility. With mobility you can isolate the opponent in small areas and then encircle them. The aim is not to kill off the opponent's pieces directly, as in chess, but rather to induce a kind of paralysis and collapse. Wei-chi is nonlinear and fluid, where aggression is indirect until the end of the game, when then only can the winner surround the opponent's pieces at an accelerated pace."_

 _Harry watched as the stones moved at a faster rate, the white stones finally encircling the black stones, forcing them to cluster in tiny pockets of defensive circles, until finally the game was won._

 _Dumbledore smiled. "Chinese military strategists have been influenced by Wei-chi for centuries and its precepts have been applied to war time and time again. Mao Tse-tung used his knowledge of Wei-chi, applying it in his strategies to great use, eventually defeating the Nationalists, though the Nationalists were undoubtedly the larger and technically superior army."_

" _So you're saying we're going to use the techniques of Wei-chi in the battle with Voldemort?"_

" _Voldemort has been gaining power steadily through these years, Harry. We had always wondered why he didn't engage Will in a full-out battle, assuming that perhaps he was afraid, that he needed more time to recoup after that near-death experience. Now we believe it could have been that he knew it wasn't Will who had defeated him, but you. Not knowing where you were either, he could have been biding his time, not daring to assert full control until he was certain the threat posed by you was controlled, searching for you and at the same time hoping we might lead him to you."_

 _Dumbledore wearily took off his spectacles, rubbing at his bridge._

" _He's gained support from the vampires, the werewolves, the giants, the Dementors … almost all manner of dark creatures that are not accepted in the Wizarding world. His supporters are spread out all over the world, making it hard for us to attack them, or even to persuade them to change allegiances. Yet even though his forces are spread out everywhere, we estimate his army to be larger than ours by far. After all, there are many who have been alienated by our world, or who disagree with our acceptance of Muggle-borns into society, like some older wizarding families that identify with his vision of purging the world of Muggles and others that dilute wizarding blood."_

 _"Voldemort has infinitely larger forces ... and he knows it. We think he will be blinded by that fact; over-confident and over-reliant on the use of force by his army to win ... like in chess. Where chess is linear and direct, Wei-chi is closer to the kind of strategy that will prove relevant in this world, where our battles are going to be fought indirectly, in vast, loosely connected areas. Already some of our teams of wizards are assembling, and we're ready to attack Voldemort' forces before they have a chance to join up, which reports suggest they are planning to do … very soon."_

" _So you're hoping that by using abstract and multidimensional strategies, it will make it impossible for Voldemort to predict our moves; unable to understand us, such that they can form no strategy to defeat us." Harry summarized._

" _Exactly," Dumbledore nodded, pleased at Harry's quick grasp of the concept. "We will be like a vapor. Only formlessness will allow us to truly surprise our enemy. By the time they figure out where we are and what we are up to, it will be too late. When we finally engage them though, we have to hit them with a powerful, concentrated blow, crushing them completely. That is how Mao succeeded against the Nationalists. He broke their forces into small, isolated units, which he then could easily overwhelm with a strong attack. The law of concentration must prevail."_

" _That is to be the game plan for the Aurors and all who fight against Voldemort. We have not revealed the strategy – there are far too many of us to be sure no spies lie within us – but each player in this game knows their role. You are to be the king of this chess board; to be protected at all cost, at least until the final battle, where you will fight with a hopefully weakened and isolated Voldemort. I will assist you as much as I can in preparing for, and in the final battle against Voldemort, yet there is no doubt in my mind that this battle against him is solely yours."_

Harry snapped back to the present. "He always seemed a bit nutty to me." Draco remarked, finishing up the soda in a big gulp. "Like in the Chocolate Frog cards we got in Zonko's just now … If I ever had a Chocolate Frog card with my face on it, I'd be sure to write something better for my profile. Ten-pin bowling? I'd rather write something that will have me admired and envied for all of time to note."

"He probably only wrote that to bring some humor to his card. Otherwise it would be so depressing, seeing all his accomplishments and comparing yourself to him."

Harry dug around in his pockets, finally managing to produce the Chocolate Frog card with Albus Dumbledore beaming serenely from the front. "Here. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling."

Harry finishing reading from the card and pushed it over to Draco. Looking up, he challenged Draco, "That's plenty of accomplishments there. Defeating dark wizards, accomplishments in research and development...What would you write, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy line, owner of extremely expensive clothes and items?"

Draco growled, kicking Harry's shins in mock-anger. "Don't be petty. You're just jealous I have a large trust fund, and no compunctions holding me back from using it indiscriminately." He smirked, leaning back in his seat.

"You know the Chinese have a saying, that wealth never lasts three generations? They must have been thinking of you, when contemplating all the rascal children that blow their fathers' hard-earned money."

"I'll have you know the Malfoy line has stood eight generations in luxury, and I'm definitely not going to be the one to break it." Draco indignantly replied. "And you probably have a trust fund too," Draco countered. "The Potters are an old family, same as us."

Harry grew quiet, turning the idea around in his head. Trust fund ... he'd never thought of that before. "Well, I'm not going to use any of that money, even if I had one." Harry argued. "The Potters can keep their money."

Draco regarded Harry, noting the sudden change in mood. Damnit. He should have known better than to let the conversation swing over to the Potters, what with things between them and Harry still as precarious as ever.

"Yes, they should keep their money." Draco agreed, ignoring the surprised glance from Harry. "You can have the Malfoy trust fund support you anyway."

He tossed down a couple of Galleons on the table, and stood up, ready to go.

Harry looked down at the Galleons for a moment. When he looked back up at Draco, his face was crinkled in a smile. Rising to his feet, he playfully rumpled Draco's hair. "Idiot." He said affectionately. "I can well afford to pay my way."

"It's our first date." Draco reminded. "And since I was the one to ask you out, I should pay. I intend to do it for the remainder of our lives, anyway."

Harry cheerfully linked his arms with Draco and headed for the doorway, choosing to ignore the gaping students. "What would you write on your Chocolate Frogs card, honestly, to gain the envy of everyone else?" Harry asked, curious. It seemed Draco had given it a lot of thought.

Draco paused in his steps, turning to face Harry in the middle of the doorway. Then he smiled; a quick uplifting of the corners of his lips.

Leaning in closely, he bent his head to Harry's ear, as if to divulge an important secret.

"I would keep it simple," he breathed, his warm breath tickling Harry's nape, "Draco Malfoy – winner of Harry Potter's heart."

* * *

.

.Harry laughed, the giddy sound lost in the vastness of the Quidditch pitch.

"You're kidding!"

"No I'm not." Draco chuckled. "Let's go flying – right now. It's quite a mortal sin you haven't been on a broomstick before."

"Well it wasn't all my choice. My adoptive father, Russell, had a nasty incident with a broom when I was eight. He fell nearly five stories and broke ten bones. My mum made him and I swear never to get on brooms again, though I never had been on one before, actually. And when I entered Lantions, I was a year ahead of my cohort with plenty to catch up on, so I didn't really think much of trying out for Quidditch. I did watch some games though."

"That's not the same." Draco sighed, looking at Harry pityingly. "Accio broom!" Draco called out, waving his wand with a swish.

A broom shot out of one of the sheds bordering the field. Stopping smoothly at Draco's side, Draco stroked its soft wood warmly. "This is my broom. It's a Nimbus 2001, which probably wouldn't mean anything to you. It's not the fastest broom in the world –the Firebolt is much faster- but it was when I got it."

"Why didn't you get the Firebolt, then?" Harry asked, curious. It wasn't like money was a factor, not for Draco, at least.

"I was the Seeker on the Slytherin team for four years running, but I kind of gave up Quidditch after my seventeenth birthday. So since I wasn't playing Quidditch, I didn't think it necessary to buy the latest model as I usually do."

"How thrifty of you," Harry teased.

"Shut up." Draco shoved Harry playfully to the broom. "Here, get on. I'll take you for a ride."

"Two of us on the same broom?" Harry looked doubtfully at the slim broom that looked like it was built for speed, not for strength. "I'm not sure your broom can hold us both!"

"It's stronger than it looks." Draco answered. "And you're not exactly Neville Longbottom. You're slim and small. Perfect size for a Seeker, actually. Too bad you weren't here last year. You might've tried out for Seeker then and given me a run for my money, and Gryffindor a rebate from their tears of humiliation. They've always lost to us, you know." He informed Harry. "They've had excellent Beaters and Chasers, a respectable Keeper, but they just can't seem to find a Seeker talent in Gryffindor. A decent Seeker might have been able to keep us from our five year winning streak."

"Probably." Harry laughed "Why can't I try out this year?"

"You're probably too busy with all those lessons with Dumbledore and all. Quidditch practice is practically every afternoon; you wouldn't be able to make it, if you did make the team."

Harry swung a leg over the broom, sitting down on it. The broom lifted slightly off the ground, holding Harry horizontally a few feet off the ground.

Draco eyed Harry speculatively. "Well maybe you would have made the team." He conceded. "You've got a natural seat."

Harry laughed. "No point dwelling on maybe's and what-if's! Weren't you going to show me how to ride a broom?"

Draco swung a leg around, settling in front of Harry.

"No, I said I'll take you for a ride first. I'll teach you how to ride later on."

"Okay," Harry agreed, hesitantly placing his hands on Draco's shoulders.

Draco turned around, smirking. "You're going to fall off the broom that way." He grabbed one of Harry's hands and placed it on his waist. "Put your hands here."

Harry wrapped his hands securely around Draco's waist, locking his fingers. As the broom rose steadily to greater heights, Harry looked around in amazement.

"Wow, you can really see a lot from here." Harry marveled, looking past the turrets of the Hogwarts towers to the forest and mountain tops beyond. The lake sparkled to his left, its waters reflecting the dying light as the sun set.

"I'll take you up to see a proper sunset someday." Draco promised. "This sunset's already begun."

Adeptly, Draco maneuvered the broom, bringing them both to swift twists and turns around the Quidditch field.

"Faster!" Harry urged, loving the feel of the wind on his face.

Draco pushed the broom faster, till the surroundings were but a blur to Harry as they whizzed around the field. Eventually, Harry leant his head gently on Draco's back, shielding his face from the stinging bite of the wind, and luxuriating in the warmth radiating from Draco.

Draco chuckled, the movement sending vibrations from his chest to Harry. "We're going down now." He informed Harry, as the speed of the broom lessened, and Harry felt the broom swiftly losing height.

Harry finally rested his feet on the ground, as the broom stopped just short above the ground.

"I hope I didn't scare you off broom-riding for the rest of your life," Draco laughed, turning around to face Harry. His face was still pale, yet with added color at the thrill of racing around the field; his hair windblown.

"No, it was so fun!" Harry grinned back. And it was true. He loved the adrenaline coursing though his veins as the broom whistled around the field. He loved the feel of the wind hitting his face, and brushing through his hair, leaving it tousled. But what he loved most (though he would never say so out loud), was the secure feeling he had of the warm body in front of him.

"Great." Draco said. "Now it's your turn."

Harry unlaced his hold on Draco's waist as Draco climbed off. He didn't know he had been gripping Draco that tightly, Harry thought. Considering the blood that was rushing through his white fingers, it must have been quite a chokehold.

Draco got back on the broom behind Harry, placing his hands atop of Harry's, where it was now gripping the smooth wood of the Nimbus.

"Okay now you should tilt the broom upwards, if we're going to take off." Draco instructed. "You control the speed of the broom basically by thinking it, and by how far you lean forward. Beginners usually take off like a rocket because of fear driving them, but as you get more experienced you'll get better at controlling your speed."

The broom smoothly ascended, until they were hovering at a decent height.

"I knew you were a natural." Draco laughed. "Figures you'd be good at everything."

Harry laughed. "Now try moving horizontally," Draco instructed. "And you can attempt going downwards too."

Harry happily tried out the broom, testing how far he could take it, and how its reactions to his movements would be. It was pure pleasure riding this broom, especially with those steadying hands beside him.

Harry could feel the warmth of Draco's forearm permeating through the thin material of his pants. Not uncomfortably warm, yet warm enough to keep Harry's attention, making him very aware of the presence of the Veela sitting in close proximity to him right now.

Harry's back was pressed flush against Draco's chest. Either Harry had shifted backwards during the ascent or Draco had inched forward, but either way, Harry was encircled by Draco's arms enclosing him into the warmth of his body. Draco was still going on about the mechanisms of operating the broom, but Harry had all but tuned him out already, just letting Draco's deep, low voice wash over him like a soothing wave. He focused instead on the warmth of Draco's body, the hands that were covering his, and the closeness of Draco, such that Harry could even feel the soft thumps of Draco's heart as it beat a steady rhythm behind him.

Crap, he was getting aroused. And with Draco's hands in such close proximity to his hips, he didn't think it would stay unnoticed for long.

"Draco, let's just stay still and watch the sunset, okay?" Harry proposed, trying not to let loose the slightly frantic tone in his voice.

"I never quite pegged you as the hopeless romantic." Draco chuckled, though at the same time obediently wheeling the broom around to face the sunset. "This sunset's almost over. If you want we'll come back here and watch a proper one."

"No, this is fine." Harry murmured, leaning back and resting his head on Draco's shoulder. "It's pretty."

And it was. What remained of the sun's rays were lightly touching the lake, sending little tints of orange, yellow, and hints of purple painting the lake beautiful.

Harry focused on the beauty of the moment, seeking to distract his mind from more of his … carnal pleasures.

"Well, does this feel like a typical first date to you?" Draco laughed. "Feel any giddy rushes, the light-headed glory of love yet?"

Harry swallowed. He didn't think what he was feeling could quite classify under and be inserted into light conversation.

"Yes, absolutely." Harry smiled, thankful his voice came out as light as Draco's. "I'm practically falling off with dizziness."

"Must be the broom ride then." Draco chuckled, wrapping a steadying hand around Harry's waist and another on top of Harry's grip on the broom, gently guiding the broom down for descent. The light had already faded, the sunset all but over. As they touched down on the Quidditch pitch, Harry rearranged his wind-blown hair and clothes, while Draco sent the Nimbus off to the shed. Draco walked Harry to the Gryffindor portrait, the two of them bantering lightly along the way. Harry was impressed. Despite the intense physical attraction between the both of them, this first date had managed to be … well, pretty normal. Giddy first rushes of love and everything notwithstanding.

Draco stopped just before the portrait, turning to face Harry.

"And here is where I say goodbye. Goodbye, Harry. I had a good time today." Draco smiled, and it warmed Harry's heart to see how much sincerity he put into his words.

"I had a good time too. Thanks for showing me around Hogsmeade and showing me how to ride a broom." Harry paused. Here was the uncertainty. Was he supposed to just turn around and leave, or was Draco expecting a goodbye kiss?

Draco solved that problem for him, leaning over and lightly placing a hand around Harry's waist. Pausing, his lips a mere inch away from Harry's, he breathed, "Sleep well."

Harry's eyelids had already involuntarily fluttered closed. They opened with surprise though, when Draco only placed a light peck on his lips, before leaning away.

"We're taking it slow, remember?"

Harry nodded. "Right." Damn it.

Draco watched as Harry climbed into the Common Room, after giving the password to a smiling Fat Lady.

"Ooh, it warms the cockles of my heart to see you two darlings." The Fat Lady twittered, her hands fluttering in excitement. "The wonders of young love!"

Draco laughed, the happy sound echoing in the silent corridor.

"Indeed, the wonders of young love." Turning, he made his way down the corridor. "Stop looking, you pervert." He tossed over his shoulder at the beaming Lady.

The Fat Lady giggled, watching the Slytherin leave. "Too sweet," she sighed, her mind casting back to the time when a cute boy had bid her good night before her door with a shy kiss.

* * *

Sunday.

The day had started out pretty alright, Harry guessed.

After waking up late Harry had gone for lunch, before meeting his parents in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore had left Hogwarts for a while, some business with the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry supposed.

Lily and James looked as awkward as Harry felt, but they at least managed to carry out some small talk, as stilted as their conversation was. They asked about school, looked genuinely interested in Harry's adoptive parents and life in Lantions.

One potentially embarrassing moment came up though.

Telling James and Lily about Alex, Harry naturally included Mirabelle as well; Mirabelle having been going steady with Alex for close to a year now.

"So did you have any girlfriends in Lantions, Harry?" James had asked with a glint in his eyes, no doubt remembering some of his conquests in his school days.

"Um, no. I was too busy with schoolwork and all, so I didn't really want to have a relationship."

James looked disappointed.

"Well how about now in Hogwarts? The workload on you is lighter now! Surely there must be some girl chasing you, someone you're interested in, perhaps?"

Harry almost choked on his tea, but managed to keep a composed smile on his face. Briefly, he considered telling them about being Draco's mate, but he quickly dismissed that idea. No, he wasn't close enough to them to say anything of that sort yet. He had just told Alex a few days before (Alex had whooped with glee and ordered Dean, Will's roommate who Alex spent countless occasions rehashing football plays with, to pay up with the twenty Galleons.) and so far the only people that knew the truth was Alex, Will, and some fellow Gryffindor 7th years, mostly Will's roommates.

"No, there are no girls chasing me. There's no girl I'm interested in at the moment too." Harry answered uncomfortably, sticking to the truth as much as possible.

James had let the subject drop, and an uncomfortable silence fell, all three of them sipping tea and desperately racking their brains for a new topic that was in 'safe boundaries' to discuss properly.

"I never would have guessed Sirius was related to the Malfoys." Harry let out, keen to bring an end to the silence, and desperate to use any means possible.

"Oh, you know about Narcissa huh? Almost all the pure-blood families are related either by blood or marriage here. Sirius is keen to remain a bachelor till he dies, though." James grinned. "How'd you know about Narcissa?"

"Oh, I just heard from another student." Harry answered vaguely.

Lily and James nodded, taking his explanation at face level.

"Well, I've met Narcissa once, and she seems fine to me, a little on the snobby side though." Lily told Harry. "Bellatrix, Sirius' other cousin, though, is an absolute demon, almost impossible to control when we were in school together, and prone to letting loose some nasty curses once in a while. But now she's in Azkaban, arrested on suspicion of associating with the Death Eaters a few years back."

Harry nodded. He really hoped Draco's mother wasn't as bad as she was made out to be, though Harry knew it would be a while before he would be meeting Draco's parents. He thought. Taking things slow meant no meeting of parents till at least two months elapsed … didn't it?

Harry looked back into the room, trying to dispel the feeling of nervousness that had suddenly descended upon him at the thought of meeting the Malfoys. He couldn't even carry out a proper conversation with his birth parents … the thought of even trying to with the Malfoys sent chills down his spine. What if they hated him?

He then noticed James, who was displaying uncharacteristic nervousness, taking out a big black book from his bag, which had previously lain discarded at the foot of the sofa.

"Here Harry." James murmured softly, extending his hands to offer Harry the book.

Harry stared at it in puzzlement, but reached out to take the book from James' hands nonetheless. The book was heavy. Pulling his hands back to him, Harry studied the book. It was large and black and, brushing his fingers across it experimentally, obviously well-thumbed through. Harry looked up to see James and Lily leaning forward in their seats, undisguised nervousness on their faces.

"Open it, Harry." Lily urged.

Harry flicked the top cover of the photo album open. Right in the middle of the page was a large picture. Lily was holding one dark-haired baby wrapped up in the blue blanket hospitals gave while James was next to her holding the other identical baby. The only difference between the two babies was their eye color.

Underneath the picture was a neatly written caption. "James, Lily, Harry and Will. July 31st, 1990"

"We've kept this book for a long time. It contains pictures from up until we … you know, when you were two years old."

"We just thought you might want to see it, maybe see if you recognize some places or people or…"

Harry barely heard his parents' words, their words washing over him like as if they were just the indistinct babble of a crowd far, far, away. All he could focus on was the book. As his parents continued talking, his head remained bowed, and he flipped through the book, his hand moving at an ever-increasing pace.

Pictures of the four of them, pictures of Will and Harry sleeping peacefully in their cots, pictures of Will and Harry with Sirius and Remus, the occasional posed shot with everyone else in front of Godric's Hollow... But mostly the pictures were candid. Blur, unfocused, sometimes with the subject out of view. Harry saw the truest snapshots of his early life there. Lily laughing, James pretending to feed a cake into one of their mouths at a birthday, Sirius romping around with them with Remus laughingly looking on…

It was addictive; watching the still shots of a life Harry had forgotten flash past him. At the same time, it hurt, knowing that one action had done all to prevent that life from continuing, that if he hadn't gone to St Patrick's, he would have been flipping through this book with memories, repeated family stories and anecdotes, to fill in the… blank he felt just looking at these pictures.

"Do you, - do you remember what it was like?" Lily asked tentatively.

God, she didn't know how heart-wrenching it would be seeing her son flip through those memories, those pictures with such … ambivalence, and yet such undisguised curiosity. Will had always taken down that album whenever he felt like it, flipping through it and carefully tracing the faces of everyone in it, particularly Harry's, and rehashing and asking them to recall some more stories from the past.

"I don't remember." Harry's face was hidden from them; still staring down at the photo album. The last page of the photo album – where James was crouched down, posing for a picture with an adorable Harry in cute overalls.

James saw the picture too, and cringed.

Suddenly, Lily remembered.

 _Flashback:_

 _"Come on buddy, let's go for a little drive, shall we?" James had cheerfully asked Harry, hoisting him up to his shoulders. "Just you and me."_

 _"Up, up!" Harry had squealed in delight, clutching onto James' unruly curls, so much like his._

 _James had laughed, easily catching Harry's fingers to prevent them from ripping out most of his hair. He had turned tortured eyes on Lily though. Today was the day they were going to send Harry to St Patrick's._

 _"Me go too!" Will had demanded, tugging on James' pants. "Car car!"_

 _"No honey, let your brother go with Daddy, okay? You can stay here and bake cookies with me … won't you like that?" Lily had scooped up her eldest and placing him in the high chair with a couple of cookies to distract him turned to her husband again._

 _"Just go now with Harry, James." Lily asked, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She looked at Harry, so happy, so thrilled at the thought of going to ride in the car, and felt like she had been hit in the stomach. Was this the right thing…?_

 _"Don't you want to come too, Lils?" James asked, lifting Harry off his shoulders and taking his hand._

 _"Someone has to look after Will here. And I've already said my … goodbyes." Lily had choked out, the words barely heard over the boys' happy chatter._

 _"Okay." James had looked disappointed, but Lily saw the relief in his eyes. James needed more time to say goodbye._

 _"Take a picture for me first." James had demanded, slinging the camera off the table top and placing it in Lily's hands._

 _Lily had complied. As she lifted the camera to her face, she watched as James crouched down behind a laughing Harry, his arms going protectively around Harry, and urging him to look at the camera._

 _The images of the two blurred in the viewfinder. Lily snapped anyway. When she lowered the camera, she noticed her tears collected before the clear glass._

 _The picture turned out well. Their family hadn't._

 _._

"Oh." James replied, clearly crestfallen. "We thought you might like to see the book anyway, if you wanted to recall-"

"I don't want to remember anything about that time." Harry quietly intoned, his head still bent away from them. "I appreciate you bringing this book here, but this is all I want to see for now."

James looked at Harry's bent head. "We need to talk about this, Harry." The words came out sharper than he had meant to, but he meant every word.

Harry looked up then, his face a blank, emotionless mask.

"Talk about what?" He challenged.

"You have every right to be upset at us. We left you, we didn't attempt looking for you until it was revealed you were the Chosen One, we failed as your parents … But we're trying here! It would mean a lot to both of us if you tried a little too."

"Well there's no obligation on my part to try." Harry hissed; his demeanor now cold and harsh. James had riled him up with his words, and now his temper flared up. "I'm here to help in the war, because I know I'm able to, and to sit back and pretend nothing is going on would be selfish of me, and not what my adoptive parents raised me up to be. I'm not here to attempt to fit into the family or for any heart-to-heart talks."

Lily looked despairingly between the two Potter men, both their faces screwed up in identical expressions of frustration.

"Boys, just take a step back and calm down, okay?" She asked in her most soothing voice, trying to make the two men come to their senses.

"You should be questioning him with me, Lils!" James angrily demanded. "We both know we're wrong and we want to move forward, but we can't unless Harry lets us!"

"And if I don't?" Harry asked sardonically, one brow raised.

"Then you'll succeed in making us feel even lower, which is what we deserve, I admit. And you'll feel contented for maybe a while, but that will always be hiding your feelings that maybe you should have stayed to listen to our explanations, that maybe we truly would have had an explanation for leaving you, and that maybe you might also have wanted to at least belong a little to our family, because we're here, trying to welcome you with our whole hearts back where you belong, where surely you remember you once were a part of."

James looked at him pleadingly, all the anger gone from his voice and expression. Now he was just a broken father begging for his son to come back home and forgive him.

"You may not remember us, Harry, but I remember you. Every single thing you used to do, whether it was to make me laugh, or almost tear my hair out in frustration. I'm sorry for leaving you … and I'm sorry for taking out my frustration on you and letting my emotions get the better of me just now. You shouldn't have had to hear that."

Harry nodded, seemingly accepting his father's apology. Only, he got to his feet, carefully replacing the photo album on the table. He walked to the door, his robes swishing softly at his feet. Only, halfway to the door, he made a half-turn, almost as if a thought had just occurred to him.

A lock of dark hair fell across his face, hiding his face from her scrutiny.

"I remember…"

Lily leaned forward, hoping against hope... What did he remember? Anything of what their life used to be like? James? Her? She could feel the hope rising in her, threatening to swallow her up, almost breaking on the ridiculousness of her last thought. Her? She pushed the thought away, before it could take hold of her. Not likely. Her son hated her.

"I remember when you left."

The words were pointed in James' direction, and although she couldn't quite grasp it, couldn't quite catch the meaning behind the words, she saw James' face pale even further.

Oh. She understood now.

"It's funny." Harry's smooth, low voice carried on, with no trace of inflection. It was almost as if he was contemplating something out loud, talking to an acquaintance of a matter of absolutely no importance to him.

"Of all the things I remember of the life before St. Patrick's, I remember that. I don't remember anything of Godric's Hollow that you've described, I don't remember even having had a brother, and I certainly don't remember both of you. But I remember when you left. The car was blue, and you turned back for a moment."

Lily could feel James' fingers dig into her palm, his clenched fingers the only indication of the anguish he was probably feeling. James' profile was stoic, his face carefully composed rigidly, such that no emotion could be read.

"You turned back for a moment, and I almost thought you'd wave. But you didn't. You drove off. And stupidly," here Lily could detect just the slightest trace of emotion contained in the word, "Stupidly, I thought you were coming back. Like I was just being dropped off to a childcare centre or something. I thought you'd come back, -"

Harry abruptly moved, and Lily could see his intense green eyes, the exact same shade of hers, piercing through the curtain of his fringe to stare at them both. She saw a flicker of –what, she could not tell. Pain? - pass over his face, and then it was gone, leaving his smooth visage, like it had never been there in the first place.

"-Come back for me. If I'd known you wouldn't, maybe I wouldn't have been content to stay there for so long, quite so happily. Because I always believed you would. Even when what you looked like faded from my memory, even when I was adopted, I always had such faith…"

Harry laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh. It sounded forced, harsh, like it had been dragged out of his throat, lingering in the air for only a while. Almost as if Harry had only laughed to cover up an embarrassing secret, a vulnerability that they could twist in his side and then use to hurt him even more.

"Tossed all my faith away, already. I woke up one day and decided, if you were going to come for me, that day would have come years ago. But it doesn't matter now, because I don't need my real parents to fight my battles for me. I don't need you to tell others that I wasn't a baby picked up from the trash, I don't need you to fight my battles for me, or for you to protect me from the bad things of the world. I've got my own parents now, and though they might not be really, truly, mine, at least they're there. There for me, like you never were."

Harry' eyes moved to her then, moving to capture hers with such intensity Lily felt like squirming away. Away from those accusing, hard, eyes, that bore into hers with such stark honesty and pain, that she had no choice but to shrink away.

His voice was soft now, but all the softness of the world could not take away the harshness of the words, well-deserved as they were, from ripping her heart apart.

"You were never there. Not even there for that one last goodbye."

With a final turn, Harry Potter walked away.

It was then that Lily felt the tears streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

.

Harry's heart was pounding. No, his whole body was pounding. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his back against the cool wall of the dungeons, trying to ease the burning in his chest. As his lungs strained for more air, gasping for more of the lifesaving oxygen to flow through his lungs, and clear his head, his fingers found the crevices in the wall and clung tightly to them.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," He berated himself, mentally wishing he could take back everything he had just let out.

He'd just run all the way from the Headmaster's office to the dungeon after clearing the last step within sight of James and Lily.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head back against the wall, trying in vain to erase the image of the two. James' face, so pale and stricken, and Lily, with the tears streaming down her face in rivulets. Both of them looking so … injured … by what he had said.

Dammit. Why'd he let everything out like that? All those emotions, all the feelings that he'd thought he'd kept locked up in a secret place, everything had come out. He'd been too emotional.

Emotion was how battles were lost, Harry had learnt that well. Too much emotion invested, too much emotion driving actions to irrationality, and the battle could easily be tilted against you. Enemies fed on emotion, used them to expose the chinks in amours, used them to discover weaknesses, and then played off their emotions to the destruction of the other. He couldn't make himself this vulnerable to them again.

Their faces swam into view again.

"They're going to hurt you again." His mind whispered insidiously. "Hurt you like how they did before. They're going to gain your trust, make you believe in them, and then they'll let you down. Again. And you'll be left sleepless at night, wondering where the hell they are, when you're all alone."

Harry slid down the wall. "No, no, no." He whispered. "Stop it." Tears escaped from between his lashes squeezed tight over dark green eyes. "Just stop. Stop it. Please..."

* * *

Will walked down the hallway, idly eying the portraits lining the walls. There was the Green Hunter, the lady who seemed to spend her whole portrait life snoring away, the family portrait of the 18th century warlock… Will wondered what his family portrait would look like. Previously, he had always been pretty certain who it would contain. Dad, Mom, probably Remus and Sirius, with him smack in the centre, Mom and Dad proudly beaming over him. He'd already had it pictured in his mind: in fact, he'd been planning to propose a visit to the photographer once his unfortunate haircut had grown out.

But now...

Will thought about Harry. Would he wish to be included in the family photograph? Or did he still count his family as the Kellers, which would be completely within his right. Will winced. His Mom and Dad… his Mom and Dad had made that his right by choosing to abandon him. It was –

Great, speak of the devils. Will moodily cursed under his breath.

Not a few yards from him, his mom and dad emerged from behind the gargoyle, most likely after yet another protracted meeting with the Headmaster.

Will quickened his steps, fully intent on pretending he hadn't seen them. However, just as he had passed the two figures and thought him to be in the clear, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Will!" He looked down into his mother's tearstained face. Obviously she had been crying, and that realization softened his heart. Just a little. "Couldn't we talk? I know you've been avoiding both of us for a long time now, but I think it's time we start over again. Will?"

"Save it." Will roughly shrugged his mother's hand off his arm. "I don't think I can be rational enough to talk yet."

His father jumped in, trying to placate him.

"Will, we know that you're upset, but both your Mom and I have been trying to give you some space to think, and maybe-"

"No. No. Stop it. It would have been better for me to know the truth a decade ago! Maybe hearing that Harry wasn't really dead when I was mad that I survived and he didn't, maybe hearing that I did have a sibling whenever I asked for one, and you just changed the subject each and every time... all of these would have been better than space to think now! Because I've had space to think, but I still don't get why you would want to go through the charade all these years. Harry's a nice, decent person, and it just makes me so mad when I think I could have known him for my whole life, instead of just right now! "

Will quickly wrenched his eyes away from both his parents, running down the corridor, not even bothering to hide his desire to get away from his parents.

Lily stared down at her son's retreating figure.

"Both of them hate us." She whispered.

James didn't try to rebut her, couldn't even bring himself to.

* * *

.

Light footsteps made their way unerringly towards him. They stopped barely a foot away from Harry's figure still huddled up in a ball on the floor. Surreptitiously peeking at the shoes from between his knees, Harry stifled a groan. Maybe if he pretended he didn't see him, he would go away.

Black shoes, with the classic make and buckle identifying it to be almost certainly hideously expensive, waited in front of Harry. Harry never understood why people would choose to waste thousands of galleons on leather to step on each day. He knew who would, though.

"What are you doing on the floor, Harry?"

The question posed in that velvety-smooth voice only served to confirm Harry's suspicion as to the owner of those shoes.

Harry did let out a groan this time.

"Go away."

"Not likely," Draco Malfoy, the very owner of those shoes, chuckled. The shoes hesitated a while, obviously deciding what to do. Then, with a sigh, the owner sank down to his knees in front of Harry, and lifted Harry's head out of his knees.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Harry replied, annoyance bearing down slightly on the word. "Why won't you leave?" His last question was bordering on the petulant side.

Draco chuckled softly, the deep rumble coming out from his chest almost like a lion's. "Don't want to."

Harry's cross remark was lost when Draco started tracing his face, eyes absorbed completely on his moving fingers. In fact, Harry had to concentrate very hard on not gasping for more air. His fingers swept under Harry's eyes, wiping away the last few traces of tears.

"Who made you cry?" Draco roughly demanded.

"None of your business." Harry replied, after a long pause, his voice a little weak. Crap. He couldn't keep losing his mind and train of thought every time he looked at those mercury eyes. He could almost drown in them, he mused. Swim in those depths…

"Everything you do is my business."

"Not this time." Harry's voice cracked slightly on the last word though, ruining the effect. He felt tears rising to his eyes.

Draco stared at his face for a long time. Harry was just this close to apologizing for his unexplained meanness when Draco sighed, turning to slide down the wall to sit next to Harry. Stretching out his long legs, he pulled Harry onto his lap.

"What are you-?" Harry sputtered, not at all comfortable with his new seating, no matter how good Draco's lap…'Stop those thoughts immediately, Harry', he reminded himself.

Struggling to get up, his efforts were made unsuccessful by the hard arms circling his chest, making escape impossible.

"Stop fighting." Draco murmured into his hair.

Harry stopped attempting to escape from the vice-like grip. He was sure Draco couldn't feel any punches he could attempt to throw anyway. The bold planes of his chest were as hard as a rock! It would be completely fruitless.

Harry felt Draco smile into his neck, and his arms loosen.

"You're so … confusing, did you know that? One moment you're passionately kissing me out of my mind in the hallway, the next, yelling and throwing a big fit in front of me. The moments in between, you occupy my every thought, distracting me to hell. Then you cry, looking like a poor, kicked, puppy, before you start fighting me."

Draco paused, and Harry felt him nuzzle his neck with his nose, sending tingles up and down his spine.

"Sorry," Harry answered, his voice small. "I don't mean to-"

"No, don't apologize." Draco breathed, his fingers lightly tracing a pattern on Harry's abdomen. "You intrigue me."

Harry blushed.

"I came from Dumbledore's office." Harry blurted out, wanting suddenly to confess everything, to let someone know what he was thinking.

"Mmmm." Draco murmured, his fingers still continuing their ministrations. "You told him he was a codgy old bat and he hexed you?"

Harry slapped Draco's hands, outraged.

"Okay, I'm sorry." Draco laughed lightly. "Though thinking that would be perfectly justified. I think he's off his rocker."

"I think he comes across dumber than he looks actually," Harry frowned. "There's just something…like he's putting on an act to fool everyone into thinking he's just a harmless old man. Damn good act most of the time. He fools me half the time."

"Not me." Draco sighed. "I'm more intuitive than most."

Harry slapped his hands again.

"Hey, that really hurts!" Draco whined. He nuzzled his face into Harry's neck again, this time more persistently.

"Let me get on with my story!" Harry hastily tried to collect his scrambled thoughts, and wriggle away from the distracting mouth near his throat.

Draco grimaced as another smack hit his much-abused wrist. "Okay, I'll behave." He muttered.

"Good." Harry's tone turned somber almost immediately, as he remembered what had happened.

"I spent my afternoon with James and Lily. That's why I'm slightly cranky now, I really apologize, I shouldn't be letting someone else affect how I treat you."

At this, Draco lifted his face from Harry's shoulder, a frown crossing over his face.

"It's not that they were deliberately trying to upset me," Harry quickly rushed to fill the stony silence before Draco could jump to any conclusions. "I think I upset them more. It's just, they were trying to dig up the past and I didn't quite like it. It's kind of … sad actually."

Harry didn't notice the wistful smile that flickered over his face as he spoke, but Draco did.

"The afternoon went pretty well at first, and I was trying to get to know them without any of … the complicated things getting in the way. But then James had brought a photo album, filled with pictures from when Will and I were young. I guess…he was trying to relate to me or something, trying to connect, but I didn't know how to react, didn't quite know what they expected me to do or say, so I kind of took out my frustration on them. It was quite uncalled for, actually."

Draco's hands tightened around his waist.

"What would be uncalled for," he murmured, steel laced in his voice. "Would be if they hurt you again."

Harry started to protest, but Draco laid a finger over his lips to shush him, and allow Draco to continue.

"I know you don't think they've affected you much, but I see you. Even when I'm across the whole Hall from you, I can see your eyes flicker to them sitting up there, and then you quickly move your eyes away, as if the sight of them brings back bad memories. All the time, you try to avoid them, especially when they attempt to chase you down in between classes. And when they do manage to get you alone, you get emotional, and more closed than you usually are after that. They're the only ones who can make you cry, aren't they?"

Harry felt a lump swell up in his throat, rendering him unable to talk.

"You're so strong in many ways, honey," Draco murmured, his voice dipping an octave, "Yet so unsure of yourself in others. You put up a façade in public, try to assure everyone that everything's fine, but I'm glad you let me see this side of you; that you trust me enough to."

"They don't want me." Harry said, his voice coming out small like a lost child who was so desperately afraid. "They just want to assuage their guilt for abandoning me, try to play nice and treat me right, but they'll never want me the way they do Will."

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry all the more tightly, wanting to say something to refute Harry's belief. No way in hell would anyone not want Harry, Draco was sure of it. But Harry wasn't looking for that right now, and Draco settled for being there for Harry the best way he knew how.

Harry twisted around in Draco's lap to face Draco.

"Kiss me, Draco." Harry demanded.

Draco's face bore a confused expression, before he suddenly understood. Harry wanted reassurance; he wanted to seek comfort in Draco, to make certain the knowledge that Draco wanted him and always would, even when what should have been the two most important figures in his life seemed not to have.

Draco felt a sudden surge of anger towards Lily and James, who having had held this treasure, had thought nothing of giving him up, of never having even given themselves the chance to know their wonderful son, and having given him up, wreaked irreparable damage to Harry's self-esteem and sense of self-worth.

"I'm going to change that." Draco thought fiercely to himself, dipping his head down to acquiesce to Harry's demand.

Harry leaned up eagerly to meet Draco's lips. Draco kissed him softly and gently on the lips, not so much properly kissing him as moving light as a feather across his lips. Harry almost groaned in frustration. This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted the bruising passion of the first night that they met; the sweeping away by the wave of desire that made everything else in the world seem insignificant. He wanted to forget; forget about Voldemort, forget about James and Lily, forget about everything but the feeling of Draco's lips on his.

Pushing Draco further back against the wall, Harry leaned fully against Draco's chest, his hands tangling in Draco's hair to press is mouth closer to Draco's. Dueling fiercely with Draco to take control of the kiss, Harry hungrily dipped his tongue into Draco's open mouth, while his hands moved from Draco's hair to run unabashedly across Draco's chest, exploring the hard contours.

Draco allowed Harry to take control of the kiss for that moment, letting him express all his pent-up frustration on him. He caught hold of Harry's hands, though, when they started to wander past his waist.

"Don't start anything you can't finish, Harry." Draco murmured, replacing Harry's hands to a higher position.

"Who says we can't finish it?" Harry demanded, breaking free from Draco's mouth to stare challengingly at Draco. His breath came out harshly, rapidly. "I want you. Don't you want me?"

"I want you so much." Draco answered, an agonizing note of acute longing entering his voice, giving Harry a hint to the tight restraint Draco was currently holding onto in order to resist Harry's advances. "More than you can comprehend. But we said we'd take things slowly."

"I don't want to anymore." Harry argued, his mouth dipping to Draco's neck, nipping just below his Adam's apple.

Draco gasped, as he pulled Harry away from his distracting actions on his neck to face him.

"That's not you talking. You're an emotional mess now, from meeting with James and Lily. I won't let you do anything now that you wouldn't be comfortable with in your normal state of mind."

Harry felt angry at first, upset that Draco had ruined his chances of forgetting all his problems for just on moment. But then he ducked his head, a wave of awareness washing over him. Draco was right. He would feel pretty embarrassed about his own actions, if he wasn't such a wreck right now.

Draco tilted his chin up, and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Harry, you know I want you more than anything in the world. But when you do decide to give yourself to me like what you're offering now, I want you to be making your decision on a clear mind, with full awareness of what it will lead to."

Draco placed another kiss on the opposite side of Harry's mouth.

"I've waited too long to lose you now by impatience, honey." Draco murmured.

Harry leaned his head on Draco's chest. Words weren't necessary.

The silence clung to their two figures, each taking comfort in the other. Draco's fingers comfortingly traced lines on Harry's back, almost lulling him to sleep.

Finally, Draco broke the silence, his voice holding only a trace of hoarseness.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking," Harry paused, thoughts sweeping across his mind.

Draco waited, his fingers stilling.

"Maybe I came to Hogwarts, despite every conceivable reason not to…maybe I came because I knew I'd find you here."

* * *

 _A/N: Well there it is. I have to give credits to Robert Greene's book "The 48 Laws of Power" and a little to Google, for the help given in the Wei-Chi part. I seriously don't play it - at all, so I'm just hoping it's correct. (:_


	11. Chapter 11

Hi guys! This chapter was kind of rushed, but I will try to upload a chapter every Saturday from now on. (Same release day as Boku no Hero Academia.)

Please remember that I own no characters. Enjoy!

—

Harry was stiff. He groaned, rolling onto his side when he heard someone snicker. He glanced across the room and saw Alex looking suspiciously excited. Cautiously, Harry got up.

"What is it now, Alex?" Harry half groaned and yelled. It was WAY too early in the morning for pranks.

"Nothing, nothing…" Alex replied, obviously implying that it was not just nothing. "It's just that-" He paused to snicker. " A 'Source' told me of your activities last night and, well…" He paused again for dramatic affect, and didn't finish his sentence.

"Peeves?" Harry asked as Alex nodded.

Harry groaned again and surveyed Alex's face, looking for anger, but he only found a strange, unrecognizable emotion. Harry's frown flickered nervously.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?!" Alex finished, yelling and laughing at the top of his lungs.

Harry groaned for a final time, causing a negative reaction from Alex.

"I swear, I you make that noise one more time…" Alex's face changes from the strange emotion to happiness to anger to worry in a split second. "What's wrong, Harry? Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

He started walking towards Harry, who examined his bed. There was sticky black ink covering Harry's back, shoulders, and legs.

"What the BLOODY HELL is this, Alex?!" Harry yelled furiously at his friend, suspecting the ink to be some sort of sick prank.

Alex had just noticed the ink as well, and he let out a small meep.

"Uh… Well…" Alex stammered, twirling his thumbs.

"Spit it out."

"I was writing a letter to Mirabelle…"

"And…?"

"You looked so peaceful sleeping, so I sat down next to you on your bed…"

Harry choked on air. "And?"

"I think I fell asleep." Alex finished sheepishly.

Harry nearly punched his friend in the face. He sighed and stood up, trying to get a look at the damage.

"Alex, what kind of ink is this?"

Alex walked back towards his bed and glanced at the bottle. "Jade-Squid ink." Alex gulped.

 _Flashback-_

 _Harry was in Charms class. Next to him, Alex sat attentively taking notes._

" _Who can tell me what the stone Jade can be used for?" Asked Professor Flitwick._

 _Hermione, Will's friend, threw her hand up in the air._

 _Professor Flitwick sighed. Hermione, as always, was the only one to raise her hand. "Yes, Miss Granger?"_

 _Hermione cleared her throat. "Jade is found in cooler regions, usually in areas where the highest temperature is around seventy degrees. It is commonly called Jade, but it's actual scientific name is Jadiarum. It is commonly confused with the green stone that muggles use in jewelry. This stone is black, is used in ink, potions, the process of creating parchment, and poisons that can be transferred through skin. Therefore," she paused. "This ink is extremely poisonous."_

" _Very good, Miss Granger." Said Professor Flitwick. "Ten points to Gryffindor."_

 _Through the class, a few Slytherins snickered,"Know it all" or "Show off" as they reluctantly took down notes of what Hermione said._

—

Harry, remembering this, shot out of bed and wrapped a blanket around himself.

"Alex, we are going to the infirmary and YOU are going to explain what happened." Harry said through clenched teeth.

"Why can't you just… wash it off?" Asked Alex nervously.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's going to stain, dummy." Harry glanced at the clock.

"You know, on second thought…" Harry took off the blanket and sped towards his dresser. He dug through, frantically searching for something. At last, he brought out some wet wipes.

Alex giggled. "Come on Harry, hurry up. Class starts in half an hour, and one more tardy would be disastrous."

Harry glared daggers at Alex as he wiped his arms off. A furiously long twenty minutes later, he finally just looked like he was covered in a large bruise.

"I swear, Alex, If I get made fun of…" Harry trailed off, looking just behind Alex.

"What's this?" Harry asked, picking up a letter with a heart-shaped stamp that had fallen to the floor.

"Uhhhhh-"

Harry took one look at his friend's blushing face and laughed. "It's a love letter, isn't it? To Mirabelle? Or someone… else?" Harry asked, smirking.

"Rubbish!"

"I reckon that you want it back?" Harry asked, holding it above his head. Alex rolled his eyes and tried as hard as he could to grab it from Harry, but Harry shoved it in his pocket too quickly to use as 'payback.'

"Let's just get to class. Maybe I can grab a treacle tart before class."

"Harry! This isn't time for sweets!"

"I know, I know."

—

Harry did manage to grab a tart, but not from the Great Hall. He happened to have mixed Transfiguration with Draco that morning, and Draco had managed to slip him a tart.

"Wow. What happened?" Draco asked, eyeing the bruise-like stain on Harry's arms and legs.

"Alex." Harry replied, figuring out the wand movement to turn his stuffed bear into a small dog. Draco, Hermione, himself, and a few others were in advanced Transfiguration, taught by Professor McGonagall.

Harry looked around. Next to him, Draco was thumbing through his spellbook, brow furrowed over the complicated spell. Across from them, Hermione was sweating as she practiced the pronunciation. In the far corner sat Blaise Zabini, one of Draco's old friends. He was reading, his wand on the table, unused.

Harry realized that he himself hadn't even been looking at the spell books. Professor McGonagall had also noticed this, and she walked briskly over to him.

"Mister Potter." She said. Harry flinched at the use of his unfamiliar last name. He wanted to correct her, but was afraid that it would get her into even more trouble.

McGonagall eyed him. "Not looking at our books, are we? Why don't we see how good you are at this. You haven't even practiced the spell at all!"

Draco shot him a sympathetic look. Harry sighed, raising his wand at his small brown bear. With a swish and twirl, he said," _Dogum Expo."_

With a small flash, his bear changed into a cute, small chihuahua. Hermione stared, and Draco clapped politely, trying not to show any bias.

"Hm. Ten points to Gryffindor, and I guess I underestimated you, Potter." Harry flinched again.

—-

"So, what are the bruises for?" Asked Draco as he and Harry walked towards their next joined class, defense against the dark arts.

"Alex." Said Harry. As if that explained it all.

The pair had an unusually large amount of classes together, almost every one. Actually, every class except Charms. Maybe Dumbledore or Snape had an influence on this. His father certainly didn't, he didn't even know who his mate was.

 _Who his mate was. His father!_

He realized that he hadn't even told his father that Harry was his mate.

The thing was, he would have to tell them eventually. He didn't know how or when quite yet, but the most that he could do was stay with Harry.

Harry.

What happened last night…

Draco hadn't actually thought about it until now. That was… enjoyable. Draco turned a cherry shade of red as he remembered that his hand was now clasping the hand of that same person.

But what had kept Draco moaning under the sheets well past two a.m. wasn't only what had happened, but what Harry had said as well.

"-co? Draco? Draco?! DRACO!" Harry's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Wha-?" He said dumbly.

Harry snickered. "We're at Defense Against the Dark Arts, dummy." He gestured towards the door.

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was already failing Charms, he couldn't afford to feel his father's wrath if he failed Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. After all, he might actually need these lessons.

Draco and Harry walked into the dimly lit room, taking seats towards the front of the class. All of Slytherin and Gryffindor fifth-years were in the room already.

Professor Lupin was scrawling some notes on the board, commenting on what he was writing when he noticed Harry and Draco.

"Ah, glad you could finally join us." He said with a playful smile. "Your just on time. Today, we will study boggarts. Tomorrow, we will fight them."

—

After class, Harry and Draco had their first flight lesson together. Harry has never flown a broom before, so he was excited to try. In this class, first years were paired with fifth years to help train them. Of course, Harry was put in the first year class and partnered up with Draco.

As Harry walked toward the brooms, he heard a few people whispering.

"Is that Harry Potter?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

"Isn't it Keller?" Harry liked this person.

He kept walking and grabbed a handful of about ten brooms, each with a long wooden handle and mismatched twigs tied at the end. He helped hand out the brooms, then stood with his own.

"Alright everyone!" Madam Hooch blew her whistle to get everyone's attention. A few Slytherins kept talking, so she hit them in the back of the neck with her glove. They flinched, then stood at attention.

She cleared her throat. "Everyone, stand to the right of your broom. Hold out your left hand, and say ' _Up!'_ Forcefully, now."

Harry looked at Draco for encouragement and then said,"Up!" Instantly, the broom flew right into his hand. Draco gave him an approving look.

"That took me awhile, I'm surprised that you did it." Said Draco, beaming.

Even though some kids were still struggling with their brooms, Madam Hooch has the students mount their brooms. (' _Hold on tight, we can't have you falling off the end of it!')._

Once they were on, some small Slytherin had the confidence to try and show off. He sped into the air on his broom, despite Madam Hooch yelling ridiculous threats about expulsion and horrible detentions. The little Slytherin sailed off over Hogwarts, seemingly having no control of his broom.

All Slytherins and Gryffindors alike stared as he fell off of his broom, landing over the courtyard with a thunk.

Madam Hooch, too busy to be bothered with carrying him, levitated the poor kid to the gateway.

Once she was there, she turned.

"If I hear that any of you were caught flying, you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch,' understand?" And with that, she marched off.

The injured boy's chubby friend stepped forward. He stared st Harry.

"Hey Potter, wanna race?" He asked, smirking.

"Sorry, no. Shove off." Replies Harry.

The chubby boy smirked even further. The thing is, I have some blackmail material, and I would be willing to spill it…" The chubby boy held out a greasy palm.

Harry glanced at Draco, who wore the same worried expression. Harry reluctantly shook the boy's hand.

Hermione, Will's friend, walked over to Harry.

"Harry, no way! You've never even been on a broom before! You could be killed, or worse…" She dropped her voice a little. "Expelled."

Ron, another one of Will's friends, elbowed Harry and laughed.

"She really needs to sort out her priorities." He laughed even more at the look that Hermione was giving him. "Do what you want, mate. I don't care."

Harry shook the chubby boy's hand.

"I'm Goyle." Said the boy. Both boys grabbed and mounted their brooms.

"To the top turret and back." Said Goyle. "Good luck." He added with a smirk.

Harry kicked off the ground.

"On your mark, get set, go!" Said Goyle.

Both boys sped off, next and neck at first, but then Harry pulled ahead as he figured out different flying strategies. He ducked lower for more wins resistance and such, and before he knew it, he had touched back down onto the ground.

Goyle soon followed, panting, and with a final handshake, he left.

Harry was feeling pretty good, but that didn't last very long.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry recognized that voice. It was McGonagall.

"What are you- you could have- why- what?" McGonagall sputtered.

She grabbed Harry and pulled him by the elbow. "Come with me." She muttered.

—

"Wood, I found you a new Keeper." Said McGonagall to the brunet boy that was standing right in front of them.

"Hmmm." Wood studied Harry, eyeing his muscular arms and speedy looking legs.

"Harry, block my punch when it comes at you." Wood held up his fist, and Harry relaxed his shoulders. Wood moved his hand back and forth.

McGonagall almost didn't see it happen. Wood was the boxing champion of the school, and nobody could block his punches.

There was a flash of movement, and within a second McGonagall sword that she saw Harry with Wood's fist in his hand. A millisecond later, though, Harry had Wood's arm pinned to his back.

Wood whistled. "Wow. You're pretty good." He said. He looked Harry up and down again.

Then he turned to McGonagall. "He'd make a fair Seeker, too. I guess we can try him at different positions for practice."

McGonagall nodded. "You know Quidditch, Wood. I think Harry has some potential."

Wood nodded. "Harry, meet me on the field at 8 tonight." He said. With that, he jogged back towards his classroom.

Harry walked to nowhere in particular, head swimming. Great. Now all he had to worry about was Voldemort, the world ending, his sort-of-boyfriend, boggarts, And Quidditch. Life is going swimmingly.

—-

Ok disclaimer: The reason that Harry isn't automatically Seeker is because he had nothing to catch, and J.K. said in the books that that was part of the reason that Harry was chosen for Seeker. The positions of the Gryffindor team goes as follows: The Weasleys as beaters still, Katie, Angelina, and Ginny as chasers, Wood as the Seeker, and Harry as the Keeper now. Yippee.

I'm sorry that I don't have as refined of a touch as the former author of this fic, I tried my very best.


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, really fast I wanted to clear up what's been happening. I haven't been posting much (sorry) but I'm still writing, editing, and reading. The last chapter getting posted twice was a mistake, but I fixed that. If you have any ideas for the story, be sure to tell me via review or pm!


End file.
